


Ramen

by dark_muse_iris



Series: Call Me Mistress [3]
Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band), VIXX, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, BDSM, Birthday Spanking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominance, Dominatrix, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Groping, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Groping, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Overstimulation, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Partial Nudity, Prostitution, Public Humiliation, Public Masturbation, Sex, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Sexual Content, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Spanking, Submission, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Violence, sub!jungkook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_muse_iris/pseuds/dark_muse_iris
Summary: A long-term client hires the Mistress to help celebrate his best friend’s birthday. The festivities lead to new business.Excerpt:"It has certainly been quite the party," you began, taking a stroll around the table to give his friends time to ogle you. "But I'm here for someone else on his special day.” The end of the riding crop snapped suggestively against your open palm and you felt excitement bloom around the large table. “Now, let me see if I can find out which of you is the birthday boy..."The charade of finding your fare was one of the oldest tricks in the book. After years of sex work, you knew that as soon as you said, "let me see," the eyes of the bystanders would point you in the right direction. And sure enough, as you pretended to identify your prey, the men’s line of sight fell on the far corner of the table. The choice of the corner was quite surprising, as you expected the shy wallflower of the group to sit there, not someone who was supposed to be the center of attention.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Jungkook x OC, with guest appearances by Jimin and Jooheon (Monsta X)
> 
> Genre: Smut
> 
> Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Domme!OC, BDSM, femdom, sexual themes, spanking, public humiliation, sexual harassment/groping, alcohol, profanity
> 
> POV: 2nd Person (from the Mistress’ perspective)
> 
> A/N: Jungkook’s story will have multiple parts because the opportunity to share the Mistress’ business practices with new clients was too good to pass up. Hope you enjoy!

"Holy shit, it's you!"

The very drunk late-twenty-something who answered the front door smelled like he had been swimming in whiskey for hours. It was a bit odd to see someone that far gone so early, and you were never late to an event like this.  _Must have pre-gamed in the parking lot, how typical_ , you assessed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Yes pet, it's me. The Mistress is here," you smirked, shielding your judgment of the man behind your dark lipstick.

"It's an honor, ma'am," he continued, his eyes almost sparkling with adoration as he beheld your ensemble: black leather corset with bare shoulders, elbow-length leather glovettes, red leather shorts only an employee of Satan would wear, fishnets, and the most intimidating thigh-high boots in your arsenal. A large, black handbag rested at your feet. The man’s throat bobbed in an anxious gulp as he noticed the makeshift belt of jade jute rope wrapped around your cinched waist.

"Is...are you going to use that on anyone?" he slurred, suddenly concerned that someone may be in some kind of danger based on your attire.

You hummed a moment and ran your fingers playfully along the ends of cord dangling by your hip.

"Only if someone has been a  _bad boy_ ," you teased, inching closer to his ear. "Tell me, have you been a bad boy?"

"Not yet...," he answered with the brand of honesty only alcohol could provide. As you stood in the entryway, you felt growing impatience; you were going to be late if the drunkard kept blocking the door.

"Well, then step aside and let a lady work, will you? I have a job to do," you retorted in a clipped tone, reminding the guest that you weren't there to party, but to work.

"Oh shit, sorry. I'm sorry, Mistress," he apologized, quickly sidestepping as you crossed the threshold into the venue.

The grandiose building was undoubtedly the sort of place people would rent for lavish, overpriced weddings. Why anyone would spend all this money for a birthday celebration was beyond you, but it was clear that no expense was spared. It looked like the kind of party that would only happen in an exclusive nightclub in the movies. It smelled, figuratively and literally, like Jimin's handiwork. He certainly had the money, you knew firsthand, having worked as his domme for several years. A lot of money could be made tonight if you paced yourself, and that was the only reason you said yes to performing at an event located two hours outside of your city.

You stood at the edge of the over-sized dining hall and took in the sights as you planned your first move: locating your patron. As your eyes scanned across the array of activities taking place, you could understand why Jimin would rent a venue as remote as this one. There was evidence of illegal gambling going on in the far corner by the card tables, but you weren't one to judge—especially given that you, at times, had sex for money, which was also illegal. The extra-large inflatable pool sitting offside next to the card tables meant one thing: there would be some sort of wrestling later. Knowing how depraved Jimin was, it was probably Vaseline or jello. It didn't take long for you to spot the bikini-clad twins, presumably the wrestlers, lavishing their attention on none other than your patron. He was wedged quite comfortably between them, laughing at his own joke, when he saw you. Your face flashed a scolding expression, which compelled him to whisper into the twins' ears, dismissing them and their pouty faces.

He sauntered up to you with open arms and the beaming expression of a man who felt he owned his universe.

"You made it, Cat," he greeted with a soft hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't use my name here, Jimin," you reminded. "Only you and the bartender you hired tonight know who I am. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Oh sorry, I wasn't thinking…Mistress," he smiled suggestively.

"You know,” you began, tapping your foot, “you're going to be in a world of trouble if you don't behave tonight, brat. How old were they anyway, twenty? You're still fraternizing with jello twin co-eds at  _your_  age?"

"Hey, I was just making the ladies feel welcome!" he argued, unable to mask his pleasure at being scolded.

"Mhm," you sounded unconvinced. "You just hired them because you wanted to see them roll around in goop for you and your friends. They aren't prostitutes, sweetheart. They always leave alone at the events I've seen them at. If you wanted to get laid, you should have hired that airhead contortionist from New Year’s...what was her name again?"

"We won't speak about her, please," Jimin shook his head as if he was trying to discard an awful memory. He stepped closer to you and whispered, "Besides, you know none of these women hold a candle to you. You're my special lady."

"Jimin," you reciprocated his whisper, "if I was your 'special lady,' you would have obeyed my rules and paid me in advance. I'm not working for free, not even for you."

His face blanched as he quickly pulled out his phone. "I knew I forgot something this morning. There, plus extra for it being late. I apologize."

You checked your phone to confirm the transaction. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"No, no, thank  _you_  for agreeing to come,” he said. “I know you don't really like doing gigs like this anymore, but the birthday boy is like a brother to me and if anyone can put on a good show, it's you. I told him I planned a nice surprise for him."

"Wait, you didn't tell him he was going to get whipped for his birthday?" you asked, eyebrows raised in alarm. "Jimin, some people don't like exhibitionism, or BDSM for that matter. There are a lot of people here; it may go badly for him. And I don't do this without consent— _his_ consent, specifically. You know that."

"Oh, you'll have it. Trust me, I've known him a long time. If you work your charms on him, he'll bite," Jimin nodded in assurance.

"All right,” you eased off your tone. “What time do you want me?"

"We can shoot for ten o’clock. I'll have him in the small dining room by then. It's more private; everyone won't be back there, just the closest of us who’ve known him the longest. And no women."

"Works for me,” you agreed. “Am I free to work the main room until then? I forgot to ask you earlier this week."

"Hell yeah, you're more than welcome to take my friends' money; I think they are surprised to see you here since you’re sort of a legend,” he chuckled. “I told a few of them you’d work for tips, but that you’d definitely flog anyone if they got handsy."

"I almost hogtied the guy who answered the door. He recognized me, probably from some other gigs."

"Oh god,  _Jeff_?" Jimin grimaced, "I didn't even invite him; he came with another guy from work. He's drinking all my booze!"

"Your bartender prepared for that, he’s good," you assured him with a pat on the shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, Mistress has to go to work."

You slipped your fingers into your handbag and pulled out your equestrian-grade black riding crop and flexed its handle, preparing it for a busy evening. Jimin's pupils darkened with excitement, prompting him to lean into your ear.

"I'm going to love watching you, Mistress. If I wanted to move up my session a few days earlier, would that be permissible?"

"Hm," you dragged out your answer, shrugging your shoulders. "I'm a busy woman. I may not be available."

"You sure know how to make a man beg," he teased sinfully.

Chuckling darkly, you countered, "You  _love_  begging for me, dirty boy."

He backed away and ran his fingers through his hair, a blush settling into his cheeks. His eyes squeezed shut as he realized his mistake, "Ugh, you're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. You’re selfishly keeping me from fleecing your friends and I want my advertising," you confirmed with a smile. "So, you're going to get on your knees in this crowded room and you're going to say, 'I love when you make me beg, Mistress.' Then you will thank me for my patience."

Jimin grinned ear-to-ear at how quickly you slipped into your role, and he knelt on the floor like an obedient servant. As his knees kissed the ground, groups of guests took notice and began to turn in their seats to see the scene taking place. You commenced pacing the floor in front of your patron, stalling to allow enough time to pass to usher the most onlookers. Jimin's eyes became wild with excitement as he watched your boots move back and forth.  _He's loving this, the attention-whore_ , you smirked.

"Now," you placed the leather end of the crop under his chin, raising it to command his full attention, "what do you have to say?"

The tendons of his neck tightened as he swallowed. Then, as you anticipated, he projected his voice across the dining hall, ensuring he would be loud enough to avoid repeating himself, "I love when you make me beg, Mistress!"

"Good, now," you continued, taking two steps backward, "you will crawl on this floor and you will thank me for making you remember whom you serve."

You knew it would be considered impolite to make the host of this lavish party commit such a servile act in front of his guests. Jimin was incredibly wealthy, with a reputation and scores of friends to maintain and protect—but after years of working for him, you recognized this was a special opportunity to push him just a little. He relished being the center of attention and events like this, especially your participation in public spectacles, didn’t happen every day.

Whispers and offside laughs buzzed about the room as Jimin began to crawl on the floor. His designer wristwatch sparkled as it reflected the lights shining from overhead, and the sight made you feel a swell of power over him. His performance was nearly flawless, as he maintained eye contact in the same manner you required privately. When he reached your feet, he pulled out a generous amount of cash from his pocket and slipped it into the lip of your boot, at the edge of your thigh.

"Thank you, Mistress, for reminding me of my place," he recited, trying not to lose character and reveal the degree to which he was enjoying this. But you knew. You knew him all too well—and this was child's play compared to the standard fare for Jimin.

When you were satisfied your patron had performed to the fullest, you gave him permission to stand and offered a cheeky grin when you saw him pouting his plump bottom lip. Guests who had been watching the performance began to clap and hoot about Jimin  _finally_  being put in his place at last. The reaction was quite entertaining for you, as it was clear none of them suspected him to be anything more than dominant—like his money.

"Ah, don't act wounded, Jimin," you teased, petting him on the head and leaning in to whisper. "You and I both know you're a freak, and that was nothing compared to what you can handle."

"Aw come on, we gotta give ‘em a show," he simpered, looking pleased with himself.

"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. "Look, I gotta run and get to working the tables, but I’ll see you and your friend at ten in the small dining room."

"Sounds great,” he nodded. “Hey, do you need a drink or anything? I know this isn't your scene much these days, but I want you to enjoy yourself," he offered like a proper host.

"I never drink on the job, but thank you," you said. "And stay out of trouble."

“You know I won’t,” he winked like an incorrigible flirt, prompting an exaggerated eye-roll from you.

* * *

 

"My Mistress!" the bartender exclaimed, setting down a bottle of whiskey and holding his arms up as he welcomed an old friend. "My god, I can't believe you're still doing gigs like this. How long has it been?"

"Too long, Jooheon," you greeted warmly, embracing him. "I'm here as a favor for a client."

"Ha! I'm pretty sure Jimin's everyone's client in this business. Does he just hire you for parties? I don’t think I saw you at the last one," he inquired, making small talk as he prepared another round of shots.

"Sweetheart, you know I never kiss and tell," you deflected. "But how have you been? I haven't seen you in months. How's your family?"

He frowned at the question. "Family's fine, er, well, as fine as you'd expect with a bartender as a husband and father.”

"Hey, don’t talk like that," you motioned, placing a hand on his shoulder in support. "You're a good man who earns a living the right way. You’re supporting your family. You should be proud of that."

"You're only saying that because you're my friend, Cat," he shook his head, trying to force a smile as he tucked the bottle of whiskey behind the bar.

"No," you retorted, taking a closer step and lowering your voice so as not to be overheard. "I'm saying that because I've known scores of men—hundreds even, and your wife is very lucky. Cut yourself some slack, you work your ass off."

Jooheon gulped, looking moved by your assurances. "You're right, you're right. It's just...you know how it is in this business. I miss my kids. I'm missing their bedtimes."

Your heart ached for him, but you knew how it was. The adult entertainment and nightlife means of earning a living weren’t exactly conducive to having a family or maintaining any sort of relationship, yet many stayed. At this stage in your career, the option of retirement was possible with the amount you had saved over the years, but for someone subsisting on tips, like Jooheon, leaving wasn’t easy. He needed the job, and from the sounds of it had worked several private parties for Jimin in recent months.

"Hey, how about when this night is over, I buy you breakfast,” you offered. “Then you'll have a full belly before you get home and you'll be able to sleep better. I've missed talking to you."

"I wish I could, but I gotta leave here, nap in the car, then head to the plant in the morning," Jooheon declined with slumping shoulders. "But I appreciate the offer. You're always looking out for me."

"You always look out for me too," you replied. "Hey, do you mind if I leave my bag here with you?"

"Is it going to vibrate like  _last time_?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You know I don't know how to turn off those contraptions you got in there."

"Oh god!" you howled in laughter, forgetting that the last time you worked with Jooheon was a very kinky bachelor party. "I swear, that was an accident! It's just my wallet and my phone in there, the standard stuff, really. I only have my crop tonight." You waved the long-handled tool to prove your point.

"And the ropes around your waist," he pointed.

"Well," you tilted your head, "as long as everyone behaves, I won't need to use these and they will remain an accessory."

"I know you'll keep 'em all in line," he grinned, hiding your bag safely where it would be shielded from the view of the guests.

You donned a pleasing and powerful expression. "I always do," you said, turning on your heel to head toward the tables.

* * *

 

Although your primary purpose for the evening was to fulfill Jimin's birthday plans for his friend, you were relieved to hear that you’d be able to mingle for tips. It was quick and easy cash, not unlike the kind of schmoozing work you used to do in your stripping days, except this time you kept your clothes on. You would visit the tables, size up potential prey, then chat them up. It was customary to offer a little playtime here or there to interested parties. Given how drunk some of the tables were already, you know it was that time in the evening where folks could simply shout, “Hey, flog my friend!” and wave a sizable wad of cash to make it happen. It was all good fun, especially with the riding crop, your go-to tool for teasing and punishing any willing participant. It was also handy for protecting you from wandering hands, which was sadly required at private gigs like this one.

Thankfully for you, many of these guests were the type of people who attended these sordid events regularly. Jimin held them quite often, but he wasn't the only one in the area; several attendees in the room looked familiar, perhaps from local scenes and other adult parties. And many of them recognized you already as an adult entertainment personality, which was a bit of a side gig you did when you needed extra cash between clients. It wasn't your preferred way of making money because it was unpredictable, but quick glances at the designer watches and expensive shoes let you know  _this_  pool of people had money, and lots of it.

As you made your rounds from table to table, you offered curt smiles and suggestive banter. Teasing men by pulling on their ties and collars a bit, brushing the ladies behind their ears with your delicate finger as their partners looked on—it was all a matter of planting the seeds of business.

"Hey babe! I need a refill!"

You winced as you heard the all too familiar call of an inebriated younger man. Turning your head to the smashed guy attempting to wear pastels and doing it poorly, you raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

"Do I look like a shot girl to you?"

Your tone was assertive and cold. Upon hearing your reaction, the man’s face grew pale and his eyes frantically surveyed your outfit, including the riding crop in your hand. The rest of the table laughed at his blunder of relegating a seasoned adult entertainer—the Mistress, no less—to a common waitress.

"Yeah, I didn't think I looked like one either, pet," you wickedly sneered, relishing in his embarrassment. The young man mumbled an apology as the rest of the table cheered and you made your exit to continue your rounds with other guests.

"Hey Mistress," another partygoer called as you walked by, "who do you think is going to win tonight?"

The corners of your mouth perked up as your view migrated toward the pool being filled with gelatin, then to the man addressing you.

"The house, sweetheart. The house always wins," you purred, leaning forward and placing your hand on the table next to him, offering a closer view of your breasts.

"Ah, come on, that's not always true. Care to place a bet?"

"And be swindled like you fine gentlemen?" Your voice was smooth and sweet as you tugged on his tie. "Fawning over co-eds is a young man's game."

His friend chimed in, hoping to get some attention, "We know if  _you_  were in the ring, you'd definitely win, Mistress."

Chuckling, you turned and whispered in his ear, "That's because I cheat, dear. Playing by the rules is no fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your stomach twisted in delight as you felt the brush of cash being tucked into your boot.

"Mistress, my friend has never looked so red in his life! What a tomato!" he bellowed in laughter as his embarrassed friend searched for a glass of water.

"Always a pleasure," you bowed your head, bidding them farewell. "Enjoy the show, boys."

As you turned on your heel and headed away from their seats, you heard a low whistle followed by the words, "You'd better watch out for her," exchanged between the two men.

* * *

 

You were feeling in pretty high spirits considering you were working at a private party instead of one-on-one with clients like you preferred. The scene was noisy, rambunctious, but everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. Your eyes scanned the far wall of the room to check the time: 9:35 PM.  _Almost time_ , you noted.  _I should get a drink of water first_.

The stroll to get a drink at the bar was rudely cut short by the wandering hand of a guest. Your blood ran cold as you felt it, the unapologetic grab of your ass, a gross violation of your person by a man leaning proudly against the wall like he owned the place. The initial thought that passed through your mind was thankfulness—you were relieved the man was unaccompanied, that Jimin was already in the small dining room by now and wouldn't have a front row seat to witness this. And the second thought was familiar, almost comforting, rage.

Your body reacted as it had many times before: you felt your hand jerk, and you recognized it was too late to stop yourself from making a scene.  _The fucking asshole_ , you fumed, as your riding crop snapped sharply against the offending hand. The smack was enough to startle and catch him off-guard, but it didn't give him enough time to shield himself from your hand which clenched around his balls in an iron-clad grip. His jaw fell in horror at the intrusive sensation of you being a hostile, unwanted guest in his most sensitive area.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk...," you began with a glare, whittling down his masculinity as your bored into his eyes. "You picked the wrong mark tonight. Did you really think you could grab  _my_  ass and get away with it?"

You gave him a hard squeeze and watched as the blood drained out of his face. "S-so...sor," he stuttered, this clearly being the first time anyone had called his behavior into account.

"S-sorry? For what? For not letting a woman walk past unmolested?" you chastised in a harsh tone.

He nodded his head hastily but was careful not to move his waist for fear you would snatch or otherwise maim his balls. But you weren't done with him.

"Do you think because this is a private party that the rules of respecting others somehow no longer apply?" you asked matter-of-factly and twisted your wrist, causing him to yelp and scrunch his eyes. "Answer me."

"I-I won't do it again," he stammered, scrambling to find the right response to appease you.

"Why? Because you're helpless now?" you sneered, shifting your full hand. "I make a living making men cry like little bitches; I could hospitalize you with one...more...squeeze."

"No, please don't!" he cried out, weighing the prospect of you carrying out the action.

You leaned close enough to detect the aroma of liquor on his breath. "If I so much as see you smell a woman's hair in this place without her permission, I'll make sure one of these little nuggets never sits well ever again. Have I made myself clear?"

The offending man shook his head affirmatively as his eyes welled up under the yoke of his sore balls.

"Good," you responded, releasing your hold and turning away, leaving him stunned.

As you stamped toward the direction of the bar, you saw Jooheon, shaking his head in disapproval.

"What the fuck happened over there? One minute I'm making drinks, the next you're up in some guy's face and grabbing his balls. He didn't look like he paid for that."

You rolled your eyes. "The fucker grabbed my ass and I was addressing it."

Jooheon's face flushed in anger. "You need me to throw his ass out?!"

"No, just cut him off. He's drunk and sloppy. I threatened to dislodge his balls permanently if he tries anything again. I don't want to make a bigger scene."

“Are you going to tell Jimin?” he pressed.

Sighing, you replied, “Yes, but not tonight, okay?”

He didn't look satisfied with that solution, but understood that situations like reporting assault when you're the hired entertainment may affect future business opportunities. It was unfair. The truth was gray and messy, and although you felt Jimin would understand and probably handle it, you didn't want to motivate the man into pressing charges over you grabbing his balls threateningly in front of potential witnesses. It wouldn't bode well to explain to police, as you knew well from experience.

"May I have some water, please?" you asked, reaching for a napkin to blot the sweat from your temple.

Jooheon grabbed an empty glass and dropped a few cubes of ice in, then sprayed the water, filling it to just below the brim. "You know, you're fucking scary when you apply yourself," he chuckled, sliding the drink toward you. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you assured, taking a long drink. "You know full well that wasn't the first time for me."

"I know it. Just be careful, okay? Some of these guys...they aren't nice people," he mumbled, his eyes watching over the room.

"I'll be careful. Just be sure to watch that fucker with the alcohol."

"Oh, he's definitely not getting more from me. You have my word."

"Thank you," you smiled, "and thanks for the water. I'm off to go play. Can't keep the clients waiting, you know."

"Give 'em hell, Mistress," he laughed, suspecting you would probably do just that.

* * *

 

"There she is!" Jimin announced as you entered the small dining room with riding crop in hand. The atmosphere was indeed private, as he promised, with a large table at the center of the room surrounded by no more than five men who you assumed were part of Jimin's inner circle of friends.  _Child's play_ , you smirked, thankful there weren't more men present.

Jimin approached to give you a peck on the cheek to welcome you. As soon as his lips touched your skin, one of the men shouted, "Hey, you two  _know_  each other?!" before laughing at his own joke.

Knowing your client wasn't the type to kiss and tell, it was amusing how blatantly rude the friend's stress of the word "know" was. Jimin must have heard your chuckles, as he quickly redirected.

"No, no, no, I was just welcoming the lady to our little party," he grinned, running his fingers through his hair as the attention became focused on him.

The room was an easy, predictable read: the friends had been drinking enough to smile too much, laugh too openly, but thankfully Jimin had timed your performance early enough in the evening that no one was going to get sick or become potentially dangerous. This brought you some relief, given the earlier incident, and you mentally noted to thank him later for not hiring you to arrive past midnight. And because of the preferential scheduling, you chose to aid in the deflection rather than embarrass Jimin again.

"It has certainly been quite the party," you began, taking a stroll around the table to give his friends time to ogle you. "But I'm here for someone else on his special day.” The end of the riding crop snapped suggestively against your open palm and you felt excitement bloom around the large table. “Now, let me see if I can find out which of you is the birthday boy..."

The charade of finding your fare was one of the oldest tricks in the book. After years of sex work, you knew that as soon as you said, "let me see," the eyes of the bystanders would point you in the right direction. And sure enough, as you pretended to identify your prey, the men’s line of sight fell on the far corner of the table. The choice of the corner was quite surprising, as you expected the shy wallflower of the group to sit there, not someone who was supposed to be the center of attention.

The young man sitting in the corner seat kept his eyes downcast, as if he was hesitant to meet your gaze and give himself away. It was a classic sign of being the target, although you were fairly certain his friends had done a fine job of exposing him.  _How old is he_? you pondered, somewhat alarmed that Jimin had a friend who looked so youthful. Jimin didn't look his age, to be sure, but the boyish face on your presumed customer made you wonder if Jimin brought an undergrad to this little party of his. Your observations up to that point in the evening suggested that the guests in attendance were in their mid to late twenties, so you hoped he was at least close to that.

As you slowed your pace around the bend of the table, he finally looked in your direction. His eyes were too sweet, like a lamb about to be slaughtered, and it took every ounce of effort in your being to restrain yourself from gobbling him up. His pupils belonged to a lost puppy, and it had been quite some time since you had the opportunity to handle someone who looked so inexperienced. Most of your clients looked like they had been around and seen some things, learned some tricks. But the young man in the corner meeting your gaze appeared absolutely corruptible.

You rounded the corner and lifted your hand out to brush against his right arm. Much to your surprise, his upper arm and shoulder housed in his cotton t-shirt were dense, no doubt the product of many hours of exercise. His eyes had distracted you from taking him in fully before, but the way he slouched in his chair like a teenager hadn't done him any favors. No, shoulders like his were definitely not what you were expecting, but they nonetheless presented incredible promise. Someone who worked out as often as you suspected he did would be able to handle quite a lot of punishment, and that thought compelled a wicked expression to stretch across your features.

Leaning down, you whispered against the shell of his ear, "I think today is  _your_  birthday, sweetheart." You gave him a peck on the cheek to seal your selection, leaving behind a trace of crimson from your lipstick, and the room erupted.

"She's got you now, Kook!"

"Fuck, I wish it was my birthday!"

"You've gotta take it like a man, bro!"

The poor young man buried his face in his hands and mumbled, "I swear to god, Jimin, I'm going to kill you."

"Ah, maybe," Jimin nodded in overconfidence, "but tonight I get to pay you back for being a pain in my ass all these years. Don't worry brother, she'll take good care of you. You might even like it." He laughed like a hyena and you were convinced that "Kook," or whatever his name was, would surely retaliate at a later date.

"So," you smiled, taking the young man’s chin into your hand, "what's your name, kid?"

His eyes flashed at your closing word, and he swallowed.

"Jungkook."

"Pleased to meet you, Jungkook. You may call me Mistress," you continued as you heard some chuckles in the room among his friends. Your hand lifted slightly to allow you to have a better look at him.  _So young, can't be older than 20_.

"And how old are you today, Jungkook? Tell Mistress the truth now...twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-four," he answered, blinking slowly.

 _Thank god, I won’t live with the guilt_ , you thought, mentally counting the years between you.

"Ah, a baby boy then," you cooed, giving his cheek a squeeze like you were his old aunt. "Well, I think you know why I'm here." You gave your crop a decidedly harsh snap against your hand. "Why don't you tell me why I'm here?"

"To give me birthday spankings, I assume," he forced the words out. "Probably with that thing in your hand."

"Very good," you praised with a voice dripping in syrup. "Now, I have one rule for birthdays: the birthday boy can always say no. I don't have to humiliate you here in front of your friends on your special day. They may be disappointed..."  _Hell, I'll be disappointed_ , you admitted to yourself, "...but they will get over it. It's your choice, baby."

You strolled around the room to give pause as he mulled over the escape option presented to him. Some of his friends started to whisper in disappointment, hoping that you would just flog him immediately like so many porn videos they had undoubtedly seen. You glanced at Jimin, who was looking more than satisfied at the way you were performing so far. He knew, more than most, that you liked to play with your food before eating it.

Jungkook was a man of few words, appearing to zone out as he weighed the pros and cons of rejecting Jimin's present for him. It seemed to be a struggle for him, as if he was on the fence. You had seen his type before, the ones who wanted to look like a man in front of their friends but were still anxious about impending punishment. Still, he had to make the call, and you weren't about to make it for him.

After a few more seconds, he rose out of his chair, as though he had finally worked through the mental blocks impeding his choice, and walked toward you.

"Fine, let's get this over with," he huffed resolutely.

You detected that he was strengthening his resolve and wanted to be the tough guy, but his face grew paler with each step in your direction.  _One last chance_...

"Now, let me be clear: if you climb onto this table, your ass will belong to me," you warned him in a firm tone. The room erupted in laughter and you saw his breathing start to shift. He was nervous. You continued the charade, smiling like the devil about to steal a soul, and you motioned him to come closer with a come-hither drag of your finger. Once he was close enough, you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, so the others wouldn't overhear.

"Don’t be scared; I'll take care of you."

His expression became startled and confused, as if he wasn't sure he heard you correctly. You gave him a wink and then barked the first command.

"Get on the table."

The men began to cheer boisterously as Jungkook climbed atop the surface of the table. His back muscles tensed and released against the fabric of his shirt as his hands pressed against the wood. Your eyes scanned his body as you evaluated how much he would be able to handle. The corners of your mouth turned upward as you took in the sight of him, his arm veins pronounced as he nervously looked back at you, waiting for instructions. Your lashes lowered to his dark pants which fit snugly on his narrow waist, tight enough to inform you that he never neglected leg days. Expectedly, he had very little body fat around his ass, but you were confident he would be able to withstand whatever you dished out. The firm muscles housed below his waist were a testament to that, and you would be lying to yourself if you weren't looking forward to working him over just a little bit.

From the corner of your eye you could see Jimin, a smirk planted on his plump lips as he lounged comfortably in his chair, waiting for you to proceed. You imagined there would be some future discussion about him looking so smug in his seat, but for now you had to focus on taking care of the young charge presenting himself to you for punishment.

"Unbutton your pants and pull your boxers down. Show me your bottom properly, dear. This is your birthday, after all."

Jungkook hung his head low and shook it as a light blush began to settle in his cheeks. Applause and cheers echoed throughout the room as he moved to a kneeling position and began to unbutton them. He acted quickly, letting his long fingers make short work of the fastenings as he swallowed deeply. When his pants loosened, he heaved a noticeable sigh and jerked the garment down to his knees, then flashed his ass to your view by pulling the waistband of his boxers down over the bend of his waist. He was smart to shield his dick from the prying eyes of his friends, but the sight of his smooth, taut flesh exposed under the warm, incandescent glow of the dinner table lights made your stomach clench in depravity. There was no better prey for your plans; he looked good enough to eat. You would surely enjoy this, perhaps more than the onlookers who were continuing to celebrate the humiliation.

Sauntering along the long edge of the table, you noticed the young man's dark eyes. He appeared to be unfocused, probably trying to distance himself mentally from the present scene, given his ass was exposed to the inspection of his friends and the promise of punishment by your riding crop. The soft pads of your fingertips brushed lightly along the underside of his chin to pull him back into the present.

"You're very handsome like this, Jungkook," you began, easing him into the activity with a compliment. "Now, each time I spank you, you will count and say, 'Thank you, Mistress.' Do you understand?"

He nodded, but refused to look at you, instead staring at the blank wall in front of him.

Grabbing his chin forcefully, you commanded his attention. "You will answer me when I'm speaking to you."

To your surprise, his jaw stiffened against your grip as his pupils began to darken. He refocused as you required.

"Yes, Mistress," he rejoined in a deep, unwavering tone.

"Good," you responded quickly, not wasting another moment to return to the other end of the table.

Your hands flexed the black, leather tool to prepare it for the work ahead.  _24 times_ , you mentally recalled. The plan was to whip at a medium intensity, see how he responds to it, and adjust accordingly. Spanking was one of the cornerstones of your career; a seasoned practitioner like yourself would be able to read him quite well after the first few cracks against his flesh.

You rolled your right shoulder to warm up the tendons, then delivered the first swat with a sharp pop. The room howled in laughter and you smiled, then pressed your finger to your lips to silence the men. You needed to hear Jungkook say it.

"One. Thank you, Mistress," he mumbled, his fingers curling against the grain of the table as he heard the words fall from his lips.

"That's right," you praised sweetly, before launching another blow with more intensity.

"Two. Thank you, Mistress."

 _Another, harder_ , you thought.

"Three. Thank you, Mistress."

Your mouth watered as you struck two blows back-to-back. His skin recoiled at the change in tactics, but seeing his reaction was necessary to gauge how far you could continue to go.

He paused, then answered with an unsettled voice, "Four, five. Thank you, Mistress."

You rubbed your hand in a caressing manner over his skin, then cracked another hard blow.

"S-six," he huffed, feeling the stinging sensation. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Is that a negative tone I detect?" you warned, sending him two more sharp snaps of the instrument. His ass pinkened to a rosy shade, but he responded right away.

"Seven, eight. No, Mistress."

"It had better not be," you barked, lashing again.

"Nine. Thank you, Mistress."

As you continued to spank your charge, you could feel the tension mounting in the room. The other guests witnessed the event with keen interest. Some continued to snicker, while others grew quiet as they imagined themselves in Jungkook's vulnerable position. You glanced toward Jimin periodically to check on him, as he was the one who hired you in the first place. He made no sound, but observed the scene silently with his legs crossed and his hand resting against his chin, like he was absorbing a cinema. The dark orbs of his eyes struck you as sinister as he watched the performance, and it occurred to you that Jimin may enjoy spectating as much as being the prey. He continued to smirk as he basked in the power of being responsible for the scene before him, and you shook your head as though to chastise him, to which he chuckled.

At the fourteenth spank, Jungkook's arms locked and became rigid and unmoving.  His skull swung low between his shoulders. A reaction like that meant you were finally breaking through his defenses and affecting him. Clients receiving this level of intensity normally cracked around number eight, so you were quite impressed. Your promise to take care of him had not been forgotten, however, so you adjusted tactics.

"Baby boy, are you going to make it to twenty-four?" you teased, hoping to distract the room. The guests around the table laughed, focused on Jungkook's face and his forthcoming answer. As the men were preoccupied, you moved your palm to soothe the red marks with the softest touch you could offer his skin. Jungkook coughed and sniffled his nose.  _It must be running_ , you deduced,  _I need to buy more time_.

"Yes, Mistress. I can take it," he replied with a strained voice.

"Do you know how much of a disappointment it will be if we only make it to twenty-three, Jungkook? Do you know what happens to baby boys who disappoint me?" you raised your voice to further enchant the onlookers, while patting the backside of his legs reassuringly.

"N-no, I don't," he answered honestly.

"They start over."

The room erupted with cheers and began assuring you that Jungkook could endure going all the way to the end.

"Mistress, Kook here can definitely handle at least fifty."

"Yea, you should light his ass up, Mistress. Teach him a lesson!"

"Oh? You think I should go harder on him, then?" you asked, riling up the table.  _He might break with those locked arms, he's swaying already_ , you observed _._

"YES MISTRESS!" the room cheered. Jungkook flexed his ass against your hand. It was quite red now; a change was needed. Your mind considered alternatives, suspecting his legs could handle just as much and still create the illusion of being hit in the same spot...but his position would have to be altered.

"Well baby boy," you began, "I'm afraid you're going to have to bend those elbows and give me more of that tight ass of yours."

His friends laughed, but you supposed Jungkook was relieved. A young man his age was often too proud and would never rest his head down on his arms to save his biceps—not in front of his peers anyway. No, you knew guys like that would sooner self-injure than show a weakness, which is why you ordered him to re-position himself. The new position placed Jungkook in a universally humiliating "face down, ass up" angle, and he would have to cope with the knowledge that his friends witnessed him in so vulnerable a state. It wasn’t ideal for him, but at least he wouldn't hurt his shoulders and would be grounded better. Plus, the more pronounced bend of his ass gave you a greater surface area to choose from, as the top-most of his thighs were now an option for the smacking.

As he rested his head on his forearms, you prepared him for the final row. "Are you ready, Jungkook? I'm not going to be easy on you this time."  _I'll be sharp and quick, so it's over sooner_.

He nodded his head and responded, "I'm ready, Mistress."

You tapped the underside of his ass, secretly signaling your primary target, then proceeded with a loud smack of the crop.

"Fifteen. Thank you, Mistress."

Another hard blow landed against his upper thighs, and he emitted an involuntary noise, akin to a whimper. You had almost missed it.

"Sixteen. Thank you, Mistress."

"Are you enjoying this, Jungkook? I thought I heard a sound..." you chaffed, then struck hard again.

He groaned, no doubt due to the intensity, but redirected. "Seventeen. I was just clearing my throat, Mistress."

 _The little shit is lying_ , you smiled wickedly.  _I know that sound anywhere—he may be enjoying it_.

Your arm recoiled and landed another. Then another. And another. Each time you struck him, his legs and ass clenched afterwards and you couldn't be more elated to see his skin dance. He was learning how to respond to you—how to take it. The pleasant sight compelled you to continue the onslaught.

"Twenty-one. Thank you, Mistress," he recited with a strained throat.

"You're welcome, Jungkook. Now ask your Mistress for another," you ordered.

He panted, squeezing his eyes shut as his friends heckled and cheered. "May I have another?"

"Yes, you may," you replied with an extra hard smack.

"Twenty-two. Ah—thank you, Mistress."

"Again," you barked.

"Mistress,  _may I have another_?" the words tumbled from his lips in a desperate rush. He was so close to the end, you were inclined to believe he would say just about anything.

"How badly do you want it?"

"Very badly!" he shouted.

A firm crack of the crop resounded.

"Mm, twenty-three. Thank you, Mistress."

The final strike of the leather tool was your hardest, as you felt the force of the blow ricochet into your wrist muscles.

"Twenty-four. Thank you, Mistress."

"Happy birthday, Jungkook!" you exclaimed, offering two pats of your hand on his backside to communicate a job well done.

The room celebrated with shouts and rounds of applause. Jungkook lifted himself up from the table and pulled up his pants, buttoning them hastily and returning to a standing position next to you. His cheeks were flushed, an expected response to being spanked and humiliated by a stranger, but what you weren't expecting were his eyes. The pupils had grown in diameter, taking on a more primal form. It was a look you had observed before: excitement at the biological and psychological level. There were enough indicators to suggest he had actually enjoyed it beyond the attention and acceptance of his peers, and you wanted to be sure.

Outstretching your arms, you offered him a warm embrace. He gave the impression he was unsure how to act, another predictable reaction, but he swallowed his apprehension and went in for the hug. As your arms wrapped around his torso, you could feel his heart thudding erratically through his chest. And yet, his hold on you was gentle, careful, as he took the least abrasive form of contact.

"You did very well," you muttered softly. He nodded his head against the side of your face, but said nothing. You assumed he was embarrassed and decided the best thing for him would be to relax as soon as possible. "Run your hands under cold water and pat your face,” you instructed. “You'll relax more quickly."

Jungkook tensed under your hold as he heard your suggestion, but you weren’t sure what to make of it. Releasing your arms, you turned to address the rest of the table.

"You boys be nice to my birthday boy, now. He's been through an ordeal and I would hate to come back and find out I have to punish one of you," you flirted, then faced to Jimin. " _Especially_  you. You're the cockiest one here."

Jimin gripped his chest playfully as if you had struck him, but his eyes communicated mischief once again.

"Thank you for gracing us with your company, Mistress," he bowed his head, grinning ear-to-ear.

* * *

 

The evening continued as you predicted it would. Another flirty gesture of the hand, a whip of the crop, a kiss on the cheek, and a growing stack of tips. As much as you'd hate to admit it, you were making good money tonight, although you were approaching exhaustion and wanted nothing more than to go home and wrap yourself into the duvet like a snug spring roll. You had enough time left in the evening to visit with a few more tables, check on Jooheon one last time, and say farewell to Jimin. But the sweat on your brow from being in the party's vivacious atmosphere needed to be addressed first, which is why you were in the venue's bathroom with your bag and an oil-absorbing blotting sheet. Even at the end of the night, you had to look your best.

Your exit from the bathroom was met with a rather forceful collision with another guest.  _Fuck_ , you winced,  _now I have to apologize in this outfit and blow my character_.

"Exc—" you started, then halted when you saw that the guest you had run into was none other than Jungkook, looking white as a hotel sheet.

"I'm sorry!" he faltered, forcing the words out as much as he could while nervous. "Are you okay?"

He looked like a scared puppy again, save for his broad chest and shoulders which were easy to discern in his cotton shirt. It was precious and endearing, the way his eyes widened in apprehension as he waited for your response.

"I'm fine, Jungkook, no harm done," you assured as you rubbed your hand against his arm. "Now, are  _you_  okay? I mean, from earlier."

"Oh," his eyes darted away from you to focus on the floor. "I'm...fine. I..."

He began to chew on the inside of his cheek as he struggled to finish his sentence, and it was confusing for you. The two of you were alone in the hallway leading to the bathrooms, so you weren't sure why he was so nervous.

"Hey," you said, crossing your arms and lifting your chin, "spit it out, kid. It's just you and me here; you can tell me. No need to worry about people hearing you."

"I liked it," he blurted out, then exhaled as if his breath was finally free.

 _There it is_ , you smiled, having your suspicions confirmed at last.

"Is that right?" you hummed, feeling yourself slip back into the Mistress’ character. You took two steps toward him and poked your finger decidedly against his chest, then continued to walk as you pressed your finger against him, backing him into the corner of the hallway which was bathed in shadow. "Which part did you like?"

Jungkook's breathing had picked up considerably. It was clear to you that he had never been in this situation before, with a dominant woman making him confess his sins to the darkness. You wanted to laugh, but it was so important to maintain composure in a moment such as this—now that the prospect of future business with him was at stake.

"I liked when it was—when you hit me hard," he whispered, feeling embarrassed.

"Did you want me to you hit harder?" you asked in a pleasing tone, dragging your nail to the center of his ribs. "I went easy on you, dear."

"I know," he said, licking his lips. "I wish you hadn't."

"That is a pity, tsk. I should keep that in mind for  _next time_." Your finger migrated to his abdominal muscles in a teasing manner.

"Next time?" he asked, confused. "I thought you just did parties."

_This is too easy._

"Oh no, Jungkook," you chuckled, looping your index finger into the belt loop of his pants and tugging playfully. "One-on-one ventures are my primary business."

He murmured something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out. He was inexperienced as a submissive, but he could learn. Knowing you could teach him how to be the most pliant sub made your face heat up intensely.  _Make the offer, make the offer_.

"Would you like to hire me to play with you privately?" you proposed.

He nodded quickly, but you weren't satisfied with a silent response.

"Say it."

"I-I want to hire you. I have money; I can pay," he stammered, increasingly cognizant of how close your wandering hand was to the source of his discomfort. "Can I have your number?"

 _There_ , you felt the bloom in your chest as you heard the words. You pressed your body against his as you dropped your arm to grab his already hardening dick. The hiss through his teeth graced your ears like a sweet melody. It was a bold move, to be sure, but you had to be certain he would take orders and accept your control, or there would be no point in giving your number at all.

"You can  _earn_  my number," you purred with a squeeze of your hand, making his length twitch. "I don't know you, Jungkook. You may not be able to handle a woman like me. It's very easy to make you want me, but can you follow directions?"

"Yes," he pleaded under his breath, resting his head back against the wall as your hand continued toying with him.

"Is that frustration in your voice, Jungkook?" you pressed. "Do you know that if I say yes and agree to take your money, I will make you feel much hungrier than this? You will beg every time you see me, do you understand?"

His flesh reacted to your touch again, and he answered, "Yes, I understand."

"Is that what you want," you dragged your nails over the tent of his pants, "to be my submissive and do what I say?"

"God, yes. Please, Mistress," he responded, his hips shifting against your hand. "Let me earn it."

"That's what I want to hear, baby," you grinned, dropping your hands abruptly. His body shifted in confusion as he felt the sudden lack of contact, but then you explained, "I want you to march yourself into that bathroom and jack off. Empty those balls for your Mistress—and do it in three minutes or less. If you complete this task, I will give you my number."

"Three minutes?" he raised his eyebrows in disbelief, wearing a look of concern as though he might fail the mission.

"Yes, three minutes," you replied, pulling out your phone and setting the timer. "Your time begins now."

Jungkook froze in place, glanced at your phone wildly in a state of alarm, then bolted through the bathroom door. His cheetah-like agility in that fleeting moment made you chuckle to yourself.  _So urgent_. Crossing your right boot over your left, you leaned nonchalantly against the wall of the hallway and waited. To any passerby, you looked like a partygoer checking her messages. No one would entertain the idea that you were waiting on a young man to come his way into your good graces.  _What delicious fun_ , you mused.

One minute passed, and you wondered how distressed Jungkook must have appeared on the other side of that door. Did he pick the closest stall to save time, or the farthest one for privacy? Did he spit in his hand first? Did he even need to? These questions turned over in your mind like a savory roast. His cock felt up to the challenge, that was for certain. Someone as healthy and desperate as Jungkook should be able to complete the task.

Two minutes. Still no sign of him. Perhaps he was one of those who had to have porn playing to come—one of those visual stimuli sort of people. Was he closing his eyes and imagining his favorite woman? Was he imagining you? It was rude to ask those questions aloud, but you entertained yourself pondering over what his tastes were. Learning a new client's preferences was one of the highlights of the job, and you wanted to learn his very much.

The door to the men's bathroom flew open—with eight seconds to spare. He looked out of breath, but refreshed.  _He’s done it._

"Did you wash your hands?" you asked, using a tone only a mother would employ.

"What? N—did I make it in time?" he stuttered, clearly fixated on whether he had succeeded.

"Relax, you made the time," you shook your head. "Now go wash your hands and come back out."

Jungkook darted back into the bathroom, washed up, and returned to your dark corner of the hallway. You reached out to feel between his legs, confirming that he was as empty and sated as you instructed him to be.

"You must be very motivated, Jungkook, or you're a hard worker. Which was it this time?"

"Er...both?" His answer was delightful to your ears, very much a novice response.

"How do you feel?" you grinned.

"I feel...good. Really good. I scared myself though; I usually take my time," he chuckled softly.

"I'm very impressed you were able to follow directions, so I will agree to give you my number." You handed him your phone and prompted him to input his contact information. He punched in his number and name, then handed the phone back to you.

"There's one thing I forgot to mention," you added, deleting his name from the contacts block. "You need a safeword."

"Now?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "What if I don't use one?"

"You'll definitely need one with me, dear. It's the way I identify you in my phone directory. What if my phone is taken and someone discovers you're soliciting? This is for your protection, baby boy."

His eyes widened at the realization of the risk. "Oh, I hadn't thought of that. I'm not really good at thinking of stuff like this."

"Well, I have to put in something," you said. "What's your favorite food?"

"Ramen," he answered quickly.

 _Of course,_ you laughed internally as you reminded yourself how old he was. You pressed your thumbs against the screen of your phone to type it out.

"You’re going to be known as 'Ramen' from now on. If you want to change it, that's fine with me, but your safeword must be at least two syllables and easy for you to remember. Okay?"

"Okay," he nodded. "Do you want me to keep calling you Mistress?"

"Of course," you smiled. "You don't need to know any other name than that one, and yours of course. I'm going to send you a text so you'll have this number. In the message is a series of dates and times, and I need you to pick one for us to meet. That first meeting will be a—well, let's say it's a business meeting."

"We don't just meet up at my apartment?" His forehead creased in confusion.

"Not at first," you clarified. "You could be a killer or wanted for arrest. You could be married. I don't know anything about you other than your real first name. I need a lot more than that to run a background check."

"Background check?"

"Yes, for my safety and for the welfare of my business. Is that going to be a problem?"

He shook his head, "No. I'm just surprised is all."

"I'm not a twenty-dollar hooker, honey. I'm a professional. Think of this as an intake process before seeing a doctor. You tell me a little about yourself, and I plan a path of treatment, that sort of thing. The business meeting will also be our chance to discuss what sort of activities you like. I offer a lot more than spanking, so I want you to brainstorm and think about what you would like to do. But keep in mind that I will be in charge, not you. You will always be  _my_  submissive, never the other way around."

Jungkook took in your spiel silently, baffled that your processes for screening and preparation were so involved, but he gradually softened his shoulders and appeared more comfortable as you explained the basics.

"And no one will know?" he asked finally. "I mean, I know Jimin hired you, but—

"I never discuss my clients, their names, preferences—any of that. It's no one's business but mine and the client's. So, this will be  _our_  secret only. You have my word."

His expression was one of relief. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," you retorted. "I have to head back to close my business with Jimin, but text me when you're ready to meet again. And have a wonderful birthday."

He nodded his head, his cheeks perking up as the corners of his mouth pulled into a warm smile.

* * *

 

Your employer for the evening was found standing just outside of the small dining room you had previously played in.

"You...wow...just wow," Jimin clapped as you rolled your eyes at him. "What a performance. I was hoping he would cry, but he's a tough little shit where pain's concerned. You could have gone harder, I think."

"You're a horrible friend for putting him through that kind of humiliation," you shoved his shoulder playfully. "If he had pulled the plug and said no, it would have been  _your_  ass on that table."

"Mm," Jimin hummed, "You know I wouldn't have said no to that."

Your jaw dropped, "You are trying so hard to get in a little playtime for free, and it's not going to work, Jimin. You'll get yours soon enough, if you would confirm a time with me that is actually available."

His face grew stone-like, then he pulled out his phone. "Wait, I'm not actually booked right now?"

"Nope, you never confirmed the time. You were negligent with your schedule and now that original time is taken by someone else."

"Who?!"

"Someone whose money is worth as much as yours and followed directions. Now, do you want to be booked, or do you want to be moved to next month?" you prompted, pulling out your phone from your bag.

"Can you do...this day?" he asked, pointing to the calendar. You checked your schedule, confirmed it was an open evening, then agreed.

"I can do that. Should I book for a couple hours, or the whole night?"

"The whole night, please," Jimin answered with a lowered tone in his voice. "I want you to do the thing..."

"If it's the  _thing_  I'm thinking about, that will cost you double," you reminded.

"I know that. I still want it."

"Then you'll have it," you agreed, making a note in your phone next to his appointment. "Well, I hope you boys had fun tonight. I am going to head out."

Jimin punched additional keys on his phone, signaling an alert on yours: your tip for the night. You glanced at your phone and saw the amount. "You didn't have to be that generous, but thank you."

"Oh, I did," he claimed, "I'm pretty sure Jungkook enjoyed it."

"I don't think so," you deflected, keen on concealing your new business. "He doesn't seem the type. Not like other freaks I know."

You raised your eyebrows knowingly at Jimin, who snickered in agreement, "Yea, you're probably right. Shall I walk you out?"

"You're very sweet, but I can handle myself," you assured with a peck on his cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"Not soon enough."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mistress meets with Ramen to discuss the terms of their arrangement.
> 
> Excerpt:
> 
> _"They sound fair," Jungkook answered, giving his noodles a stir. "You're very thorough."_
> 
> _Your lips curled. “I am. Do you mind if I ask a few more questions while you eat?"_
> 
> _"Sure, go ahead," he mumbled before consuming another bite._
> 
> _Taking in a couple spoonfuls of your meal, you prepared for the next line of questioning. So far, Jungkook was accepting of what you had to say, but you knew the questions would become increasingly personal and potentially uncomfortable._
> 
> _You fetched your ink pen and gave it a quick click, then pressed it onto a clean page. "Have you ever had sex?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jungkook x OC, with guest appearance by Leo (VIXX)
> 
> Genre: Smut
> 
> Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Domme!OC, BDSM, femdom, sexual themes, sex work, masturbation, mentions of violence against women, profanity
> 
> POV: 2nd Person (from the Mistress’ perspective)
> 
> A/N: When I first started this series on Tumblr, I received multiple messages asking about the Mistress’ business practices, so I wrote this update. There’s quite a bit of dialogue in this part, but there are a few teasers for future releases sprinkled in here.

The chime on your cell phone came midday on a Tuesday, and you knew it was him—Ramen, the inexperienced young man who survived being spanked to the entertainment of his friends, but secretly craved harsher treatment. You had laid the groundwork to build a new business arrangement once he expressed interest: you would work for him, and he would become your submissive—after a bit of instruction, of course. The next step in the transaction was to meet at a date and time of his choosing, a location of yours, and formally negotiate.

> **[12:37] Ramen:**  Hi. Is Thursday night still free? Sorry about delay, I had to make sure I wasn't getting sent on a business trip this week.

_Business trip_ , you quirked your eyebrow at the screen, before making a mental note to inquire about his employment more thoroughly.  _He's forward about apologizing, very polite—so far, so good_. Your fingers tapped rapidly against the screen.

> **[12:40] You:**  Good afternoon. Thursday is still free. You work for Jimin directly, right? You're not a contractor?
> 
> **[12:41] Ramen:**  yep
> 
> **[12:41] You:**  Know the noodle shop in the old market district near your office? Not the fancy new one, the old one.

You supposed it helped that you knew where Jimin worked. You just hoped that your future client wouldn't ask questions as to why a domme would know where the office was specifically located...

> **[12:42] Ramen:**  Yea, the new one sucks. I prefer the old one.
> 
> **[12:44] You:**  Me too. Let's meet there at 6:30 PM on Thursday. When you get there, tell the hostess you're there to see Jen.
> 
> **[12:45] Ramen:**  Jen who?
> 
> **[12:45] You:**  They'll know which Jen.

After a couple of minutes passed, you received a final text.

> **[12:49] Ramen:**  Did you pick that place because I like ramen?

The corners of your lips perked up.

> **[12:50] You:**  Of course, baby. You'll need a good, warm meal for the meeting we're about to have.

You chuckled to yourself as you imagined him dissecting your text and wondering what you meant.

* * *

 

Thursday evening arrived and your chest warmed at the savory smells of the noodle shop you had been frequenting for years. On the surface, it was a humble small business, a quaint restaurant run by a brother and sister duo in the same manner their father and grandfather had run it for nearly thirty years. What the public didn't know, and you knew, was that the owners took cash under the table to rent their back rooms out to individuals who needed to meet privately in a public place—with a hidden camera. It was a necessary precaution to take until your client’s background check cleared; you had learned the hard way a few years back that some clients weren't interested in negotiating fairly before having a piece of the pie.

You were greeted by the host, an older man in his sixties with kind eyes and a keen memory, who recognized you from your many previous visits.

"He arrived fifteen minutes early, ma'am,” he informed with a small nod. “Looked a bit nervous, not like how he looks when he eats lunch here."

"Does he eat here often?" you inquired, trying to gather more information about your future patron.

"Eh, about twice a week. He usually orders the special, rarely the same thing every time. He eats well when he comes here," the observant host reported, never missing the habits of the restaurant's regulars.

"Was he polite when he arrived?"

"Oh yes, ma'am. We sat him in the second room. He's ready for you."

"Wonderful. Will you tell Jen I'm here?"

"Absolutely," he nodded as he ushered you down the narrow hall toward the back rooms of the noodle shop.

You entered the second room to find your young charge sitting quietly at a modest table, looking a bit anxious as the host had reported, but perhaps he was just hungry. A menu rested on the table in front of him, but his features suggested he was preoccupied with other matters. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw you, as if his concentration had been broken, and he sprung from his seat to greet you properly with a bow of his head.

"Good evening," you acknowledged with a warm smile. "Please, don't be nervous. Have a seat.”

The young man nodded and sat back down, unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. You expected this sort of reaction from him. After all, he probably didn’t know there were back rooms at the restaurant, and you knew the host hadn’t given him any details to inform him why all the secrecy was taking place.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I used your real name for this meeting?" you offered as you took your seat across from him, hoping to coax him out of his shell.

"Uh, yes...it would actually. Sorry," he said as he fidgeted with his hands. "I'm a little confused by all this. I didn't know these rooms were back here. Is Jen your name?"

"No, it isn't," you answered, feeling rather amused. "And as for the rooms, they aren't back here. Not to the public anyway. I use them to meet with potential clients. There's a camera embedded in the wall behind me. Say hello."

"I-I'm being recorded?" he asked, turning pale. "Why?"

"Jungkook, have you ever been assaulted by a man twice your size?"

"No," he spoke quickly, not fully understanding where you were going with the question.

"I have," you responded bluntly, dropping your smile. "That's why you’re being recorded. That's why we’re having this meeting in a public place where I personally know the owners, who can attest to your whereabouts and physical description. It's also why you'll give me what I need to run a background check on you, after we agree on a price, or this negotiation will be over. My business is built on trust and safety. I am not interested in ending up in a gutter, you understand?"

He sat back in his seat, flabbergasted by your insinuation that he could be dangerous. "But I would never hurt a woman..."

"I don't believe you would either, but you look innocent, sweetheart." You worked to soften your tone, in spite of your frustration at how naive he was to the dangers of your profession. "You don't look like the type who would hire me, if I'm being honest. I look guilty, at least when I'm dressed for the job. The police aren't interested in doing a thorough job when it comes to vice; I'll get cuffed every time.

"And there's the fact that you're very strong," you continued. "I know you work out at least three times a week by the way your muscles move in your clothes. You're also fast when you run, and healthy enough to come in less than three minutes. It's my job to know those things, to evaluate the risks to my life and my work when I take on someone new. And you are a risk, one which I’m trying to clear by having this meeting."

"Whoa," he exclaimed with a stunned expression. "I...wasn't aware you were watching me that closely?"

"And that," you pressed your finger to the table, "is why I'm still in business."

Jungkook began to relax after you gave him a few moments to mull over all you had shared. As you both sat looking at one another, a silence hung in the air, but it was comfortable. Perhaps all the extra precautions you took for your own safety were a comfort to him as well. In any case, you were relieved when his shoulders finally rested and his eyes drifted back toward the menu in front of him. You reviewed your menu for appetizers, but ultimately decided against them, not wanting to prolong the meeting more than was necessary.

The door to your room opened with a lively swing. "Good evening," rang the singsong voice of Jen, one of the shop's owners. "What can I get for the two of you?"

You turned your eyes to the man sitting across the table from you and paused, giving him the opportunity to make the first move. He returned the glance, then warmly motioned his hand. "Please, ladies first."

 _Good, well-mannered_ , you noted.

"I'll have the usual, and a pot of tea, please. Thank you," you ordered, handing your menu to her.

"And for you, sir?" Jen asked, turning toward Jungkook.

"I'll have the shoyu ramen and a glass of water, please," he replied, passing his menu toward her open hand.

Jen bowed her head and tucked the menus under her arm. "I'll have that right up."

Upon her exit, you tilted your head toward the door. "That was Jen."

"Oh," Jungkook said, then creased his brow. "But why did I ask for her at the door instead of saying I was here for you?"

"Because you don't have my name, remember? When you ask for Jen, they know you're here for me."

"You've really planned all this out," he commented, his eyes scanning your face as though he were trying to place puzzle pieces together.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "And you ask a lot of questions. Have you always been this curious?"

A faint sign of a smirk started to form on his lips, and a warm bloom spread in your chest as you saw his eyes flicker with mischief. "I don't usually encounter women who are as interesting as you," he replied, shifting to sit more comfortably in his chair.

 _Oh, he thinks he's smooth_.

"Do you think compliments will get you far with me?" you inquired, crossing your legs and leaning back in your seat, amused by the change in conversation.

"I don't know yet," he cocked his head, growing bolder. "You're a better planner than most of the people I negotiate with in my day job. You’ll probably get what you want."

"I always get what I want," you assured him, giving him a wink. His chest lifted at an uneven pace and you knew he was at least slightly affected by your underhanded move.

"But will I get what I want?" he pressed, not wanting to surrender just yet. "I don't know what you offer exactly."

You cleared your throat and uncrossed your legs, leaning closer to him. "Let's wait for our meals to arrive first, yes? I see you're eager and that's good, but trust me, you want to wait to continue this conversation."

"Why?" he lowered his voice, looking around the room. "I thought this was private."

"You'll want a warm belly before I start asking you the questions I have." A playful grin stretched across your face.

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded, conceding to table the conversation until after the food arrived. "Fair enough. What do we talk about until then?"

You lifted your hand, opening your palm gently. "Just enjoy this silence. I'm not the sort of person who will think less of you if you are quiet and still. You are communicating to me even when you aren't talking."

"Oh? What do you mean?" He blinked slowly.

"Well, you were nervous when I got here. You're more relaxed now, but only because you think this is a normal business meeting, so you're falling into work habits that make you comfortable. I bet you're the flirty one they send in to negotiate with the women,” you alleged with a smirk, raking your eyes over his upper body. “You're certainly attractive enough for the job. If you aren't using those gifts during your meetings, you should be."

His eyes widened in astonishment, but he gave no response, so you added, "You’re also very chatty when you're hungry. How am I doing?"

Before Jungkook could produce an answer, the door opened again and the fresh aromas of your dinners came wafting in, filling the room with warm sentiment.

"Here we are," Jen announced as she set the large tray of food on the serving table next to the door. She laid out the large bowls of ramen for both of you, and it was hard not to lean over it and inhale deeply. A fresh pitcher of water settled on the edge of the table next to Jungkook's full glass, and Jen kindly poured your first cup of tea.

"Will that be all, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you, Jen." You nodded your head in affirmation as you unfolded your napkin and placed it in your lap. She looked over to Jungkook, then back to you, and smiled knowingly before bowing and taking her leave.

As the door closed, you chuckled.

"What was that all about?" Jungkook looked confused.

"Too bad you don't work for me," you began, blowing a calm puff of air over your tea to cool it. "She likes you. Pity."

His face froze as he processed what "work for me" meant, then blushed slightly.

"Do you have employees?" Jungkook was hesitant in posing the question, but couldn’t contain his curiosity.

"Yes, but they aren't sex workers. I'm a sole proprietor who hires contractors for specific tasks, like your background check.” Your client sat there, fascinated by your response, but had yet to touch his bowl. “You should start eating," you advised gently.

As you began to stir your noodles, you watched your client partake in his meal. His head hung low, close to the bowl, as he took large amounts of noodles and skillfully alternated between chewing and slurping. He was a neat and efficient eater, using his jaw muscles diligently to make quick work of the meal laid out before him, with scant a spill around his bowl.

"You have a good appetite," you observed, imagining what else could be eaten with that level of skill. Jungkook glanced up from his bowl, raising an eyebrow in your direction before grinning to himself and returning to his noodles.

 _He likes flattery, I could work with that._ You cleared your throat at the thought and began to rummage through your bag for your small, leather-bound notebook.

"Let's begin with a few quick rules,” you commenced, opening the book and reading from the first page. “The first: pay on time. I require payment in full prior to meeting with you. If you don't pay, I don't show up. I do accept tips in cash or wire transfer, but they will never be solicited." Jungkook nodded his head in understanding, and you moved to the next item.

"Second rule is to always communicate your needs and wishes. This means using your safeword if you need me to stop what I’m doing. You may use it often; using it doesn’t make you less of a man. On the other hand, if you’re enjoying yourself, let me know. Feedback is essential in this business, whether it's a moan or a text message. I am planning on trying a few things with you based on what I know about you already, but you are always welcome and encouraged to ask for something specific. You are paying for a service, and I want you to be satisfied.”

Jungkook bobbed his head as he took a sip of water and resumed eating.

"The third rule is to be yourself,” you continued, turning a page in your notebook. “I am not your girlfriend or your boss; there is no need to masquerade as someone else in the hopes of fulfilling some societal expectation when you're with me. If you try to be someone you're not, you will set yourself up for disappointment when I don't give you what you're really looking for.

"And the last and most important rule: respect my role as a business owner. Our arrangement, should you agree to the terms, is for one-on-one playtime, and nothing more. I don't want to show up at your place and find an audience waiting. I will not be passed around your friends just because they happen to be there. I decide how and when my services are used, and if you want more than one-on-one, we can negotiate for that separately. Do you understand and accept these rules?"

"They sound fair," Jungkook answered, giving his noodles a stir. "You're very thorough."

Your lips curled. “I am. Do you mind if I ask a few more questions while you eat?"

"Sure, go ahead," he mumbled before consuming another bite.

Taking in a couple spoonfuls of your meal, you prepared for the next line of questioning. So far, Jungkook was accepting of what you had to say, but you knew the questions would become increasingly personal and potentially uncomfortable.

You fetched your ink pen and gave it a quick click, then pressed it onto a clean page. "Have you ever had sex?"

Jungkook gulped his food down too soon and struggled to clear his throat. "Is that really a question?"

"Yes, it is. Virgins are a liability; some of them just want the quick fuck to get it over with, and that’s fine, but others can form unhealthy attachments beyond what I am willing to provide. Should I take your startled reaction as a yes?"

"Yes, wow," he answered, chewing more loudly with a creased brow. "How many questions are there?"

"Several, but the specific number depends on how you answer." You scribbled his response in your notebook, then asked, "Are you married or in a committed relationship?"

"No."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

"Would you be interested in having playtime at your place, or an offsite location?"

The mention of playtime made his ears turn pink, but he remained otherwise relaxed. "I'd be more comfortable at my place, if that's okay with you."

You softened at his consideration of your comfort level. "That's okay with me, Jungkook. Are you allergic to silicone or latex?"

His jaw slowed as he began to turn over your questions more closely. "No, no allergies."

"How do you feel about condoms?"

"Is this a trick question?" he asked, placing his chopsticks against the lip of his bowl. "I hate them."

 _So do many men_ , you gave an understanding look and continued to write. "Would you be willing to use condoms?"

Jungkook paused. "This a negotiation meeting, right?”

“Of course.” You reached for your cup of tea and took a long sip.

“Can I just get tested instead?"

You anticipated he would try to get out of condoms, as so many clients had in the past, so you took out a small card from your bag and slid it across the table. "If you agree to get tested within forty-eight hours of our sessions and get screened for these, then yes."

His finger traced along the rather lengthy list of STIs on the card. "This is longer than the standard stuff they screen for."

"Yes," you confirmed. "I want the full panel. This option is more expensive for you than condoms, naturally. But it is an option."

"What happens if I don't get screened within the time frame? Will a previous screening be enough for multiple sessions?"

"Nope, it would be condoms at that point...unless you were with me for multiple days in a row."

"You offer that?" He sounded intrigued.

"Of course, for the right price," you clarified. "I have two more questions in this set. Is that all right?"

Jungkook chuckled, "Fire away."

"Are you willing to submit to a background investigation?"

"Mhm," he nodded, taking in another spoonful.

"I need you to complete this form after you've eaten." You slid a single sheet of paper across to him. "Last question: do you still want to be called Ramen?"

"Can't you just use my real name?"

"In public, no. In private, I can call you whatever name you want to be called, including pet names. You will still need a safeword and a pseudonym for my records, though."

"How about we keep Ramen because I'm shit with safewords, and you call me Jungkook privately.”

“And pet names?”

“I don't know about pet names...I don't really have experience with those," he admitted, chewing his bottom lip. “What do you prefer?”

"I prefer calling you the name that makes you come the hardest," you murmured as you took another sip of tea.

"Excuse me?" He appeared startled.

"You heard me,  _baby boy_ ," you cooed as you set your teacup gingerly on the table, amused with how rosy his cheeks became.

Jungkook cleared his throat and mumbled, “You can call me that. ‘Baby’ would be fine too.”

 _Got him_. You gave a pleased expression. “Wonderful. Shall we discuss pricing?"

"Is it easier?" he joked, taking a drink of water, bracing himself now that he understood you were quite thorough from your earlier questions.

You blinked at him, then turned another page. "Do you like discussing your sexual preferences and how much they’re worth with strangers?"

"Um…this would be a first for that." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Then no,” you giggled, “but you’ll have the safety of conversing with a professional who won't share your dirty little secrets."

"Fair enough, what's the first question?" he asked, looking eager to get the conversation over with.

"Have you ever paid for sex work in which the worker had physical access to you?"

"N-no. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all." You smiled, feeling a touch of relief yourself. If he was this new to your line of work, then he would be easy to mold and would have few expectations. "I'm going to write a series of numbers on this paper and hand it to you."

You wrote three numbers and handed him the paper. His fingers outstretched and his eyes took in the figures—your prices.

"The first number is the price to meet with me for an evening. That is most common. It's around three to six hours, depending on what we're doing. The second number is to stay overnight. The third is my price for a full day of playtime, not to exceed twenty-four hours."

Jungkook wiped his mouth with his napkin and straightened in his seat. "What all is included for this price?"

"I offer roleplay in which I am in charge. There are varying subsets of this type of play, but most hire me for BDSM, which has become a specialty of mine." You tilted your head with confidence. "What you experienced at your birthday is barely scratching the surface of what I am capable and willing to provide."

Jungkook's jaw slackened as his memory wandered to the previous week when he had been spanked twenty-four times and wanted more. You felt a rush of satisfaction upon seeing his face change, so you continued.

"The price includes access to all of my equipment and toys, plus my wardrobe which includes over one hundred outfits. If you've seen it, I probably have it, down to your favorite color. I'm assuming you don't have a lot of experience with the equipment and toys aspect of this, so I will try new things based on what I feel is appropriate for you and we can adjust from there. As for sex acts," you inhaled breath of air as you recited, "the price includes everything up to the point of penetration."

Your client’s dark eyes searched your face hesitantly. "What if I wanted...penetration?" The word sounded heavy on his tongue, but you knew it to be a fair question.

Grinning wickedly, you posed, "For me or for you?"

Jungkook’s brow furrowed unexpectedly. "Is there a price difference?"

"Oh yes. The prep time, safety measures, equipment, and cleanup drive the price. If you want to penetrate me, the price is fifty percent of the top number added to the base number, your total time. If you want me to penetrate you, one hundred percent.”

"It's double? Wow...people pay that much?"

"For me, they do," you clarified, then let the conversation hang for a moment. "Is this price a number we can agree upon?"

Jungkook folded the piece of paper and tucked it in the pocket of his jeans, then cleared his throat and pushed his bowl toward the center of the table.

"I think your number is fair, given everything you’re offering."

"Glad we can agree,” you replied. “I'll give you a few minutes to fill out the background investigation form and then we can get started with the last item on my agenda."

"There's more?" Jungkook looked nervous again, wondering what else there could possibly be left to discuss. He asked for a pen which you provided, then hastily scribbled down his full name along with all of the pieces of information you requested. When he slid the form back to you, you took out your camera and snapped a picture, then forwarded the photo to your cloud drive so the process of fully clearing him could begin.

"You can keep this," you said, sliding the form back to him. "I have everything I need."

Sliding your phone back into your bag, you felt excitement bubble in your belly. It had been some time since you had a chance to work with a novice client. The majority of your current customers had at least paid for a prostitute a time or two before hiring you, but not him. Part of you wondered why he would go through the trouble of spending so much money on you. To be fair, he would get what he paid for, but a young man as attractive as him, with a full head of hair, a lucrative job, and his own apartment should be able to fare well enough on his own. He should be able to get his pick of partners for free. It didn't add up for you.

"Jungkook," you eased, getting out of your chair and taking a seat next to him. "Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

He fidgeted a bit. "Haven't they all been personal tonight?"

 _He has a point_. "Well," you continued, placing your hand on his leg. "Why are you paying for sex?"

Jungkook's thigh tensed under your hand. His expression looked wounded by the question, so you adjusted your phrasing. "Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to take you on as a client. You're going to be a real treat for me," you patted reassuringly, "but you're young, athletic, gainfully employed, and polite. You don't have to answer it, of course, but I'm curious. You haven't asked me for anything out of the ordinary. I’m wondering if you’re hiding a particular kink or fetish you’d like to explore. We can talk about them, if you want."

You searched his face as he tried to form an answer. If he had any sort of unusual sexual preference or wanted something more extreme, now would be the time to say so.

"It's...been difficult to find what I'm looking for," he sighed, dropping his hands into his lap.

"Are you referring to a partner to sleep with, or a partner who takes control?" You pressed your hand more resolutely against his thigh and crossed your legs, angling your body to give him your full attention.

"A woman who takes control—and knows what she's doing—so I can experiment," he answered with a deep swallow in his throat, unable to look at you. You lifted your hand and placed a finger under his chin, delicately turning your client’s face toward you.

"Let me guess," you lowered your voice, meeting his gaze, "you went home with one too many young ladies who wanted  _you_ to take over and be in charge, hm?"

He nodded, and resumed biting his lip.

"Did you ever ask one of  _them_ to be in charge? Some women like that, Jungkook."

"I was...," his cheeks puffed as it released a long breath, "but I thought if I asked for something like that, they wouldn't think of me as a man anymore. I have a very visible job and I didn't want it getting around."

"You mean to your business associates?"

"Yea, and customers too," he confirmed. “I’m in sales.”

The thought of Jungkook being apprehensive about being judged by his peers was endearing to you. He was interested in keeping up a certain appearance, a pre-packaged persona, in order to perform well at his job. It was a trait you shared, as your job included an element of charade too, but you found it ironic he would have such a concern considering he worked for Jimin, who had been a client of yours for years. It was unfortunate you had no means of explaining to the young man in front of you that some of your neediest submissives were incredibly powerful in their normal lives. It sounded like he simply wanted to try something new, but hadn't found the proper channel, or person, to do so.

You were eager to communicate a sense of safety and comfort as early as possible, so he wouldn't be so nervous when the time for real play began. After an evening of questions and probing inquiries from you, he looked a bit lost, like a sheep in need of a shepherd. He needed a win, and if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to feel a little more reassured about your new position in his recreational life. It wasn't uncommon for new clients to get cold feet before the first session, as you expected in this line of work which remained, among other things, wholly illegal.

Your eyes traced along the angular features of his jaw, down the slope of his neck. He wore a shirt very similar to the one he wore for his birthday: very trim, cut well for his broad chest. You wondered how many of this type of shirt he had. However, your musings on the subject were interrupted by the sight of Jungkook's nipples poking noticeably against the fabric.

Scooting closer to him, you gently inquired in the sweetest tone you had in your arsenal, "Are your nipples always hard, Jungkook?"

He pursed his lips and blushed. "Mhm, pretty much all year round."

"Are they extra sensitive?" You pouted your lip and stretched your words, trying to mask the wild zing of excitement upon hearing his previous answer. Jungkook focused his attention on your hand, which had migrated further up his thigh. You heard his breathing begin to accelerate and when you connected your eyes with his again, you could see why.

"Very," he stressed, voice strained under your observation.

You saw the window of opportunity open and knew the air in the room was too thick, the tension too palpable. Seizing the moment, you clasped his thigh as you leaned closer to his ear, lowering your tone.

"Want to play a little for dessert?"

The young man locked his eyes on yours as he considered whether he was actually going to go through with your plan—whatever it was—in a back room of one of his favorite restaurants. No words left your lips to coax or persuade him further, but your hand felt the tightening of his thigh muscle and you knew any obstacle to his pleasure would be mental only. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as his pink tongue poked against the corners of his mouth. He gave you two short nods of his head and glanced down at your hand on his leg.

"I need to hear you say it, baby," you softly planted the instructions in his eager ear.

"Yes, Mistress." He refocused his eyes back on you. "Will you please play with me?"

"Take off your shirt."

Immediately, Jungkook's expression shifted to alarm. "But what about the camera? What if Jen comes back?"

You huffed, then reminded yourself he was new to this sort of play. "The camera is a closed feed and I own the recording, which I'll destroy once your background check has cleared. Jen won't be back until I message her to return. Now," you deepened your tone, "take it off, and don't question me again."

He moved quickly to obey your words and shirked off his shirt, leaving behind a warm expanse of smooth, taut skin. The chill of the room affected him, or perhaps it was the touch of your hand brushing across his chest possessively that set the goosebumps alight. You felt the hesitation in his body's response to you and wondered whether he was nervous because this was his first real playtime with you, or because it might have been his first time doing this sort of thing in a restaurant. Curiosity overwhelmed you a second time.

"Sweetheart, is this is your first time playing in a restaurant?" you inquired, threading your fingers into the thick strands of his raven-colored hair.

"Yes." He closed his eyes as he savored the feeling of his scalp being touched. His hands folded across his abdomen, unsure of how to proceed.

"Well, we should make it count, don't you think? You wouldn't want to disappoint me in one of your favorite places to eat. How would you be able to come back here?" you teased, curling your lips into a smile.

The hardened tips of your nails continued to card across his scalp and you felt him slowly ease into a more relaxed state. You mentally noted that this sort of exercise may be required in the future, if you wanted to calm his body without hurting him. He took to your hand stroking his hair like a kitten being petted after a long day of neglect. It was unlikely he would suspect you to be prepping his scalp to be pulled, but when you made the transition to tug on his dark strands, he exhaled deeply and you saw his erection grow, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

"Mm, you like having your hair pulled," you murmured, lightly pulling a second time as you watched his throat bob and his skull tilt to rest against the back of the chair.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, his lips parting to show his face at a full rest. It was almost angelic, the way his eyelids flickered and closed under your touch. He rested his hands on his thighs as if he was deliberating with himself on how he should be reacting to you.

"Unbutton your pants. Take your cock out for me," you coaxed with an alluring whisper. His breath became more labored as his fingers quickly unfastened his jeans and jerked his zipper down. With a hasty motion of his hand, he pulled out his length, already distended with need, and released a small sigh of relief at having it freed at last.

The act of making a client pull his dick out was old hat for you. You had seen so many over the years that nothing surprised you anymore as far as appearance or performance. The prospect of a new plaything, however, was one which still caused a warm blooming feeling in your cheeks. His obedient gesture planted the seed of surrender, the sweet relinquishing control. You understood how critical this moment was, how important it was to build trust early in your arrangement. Jungkook's offering stood resolutely from the confines of his jeans, with a swollen head that communicated a task which needed to be completed without delay. Your grip on his scalp intensified, making him wince, then you released his hair, tucking your arm and resting your head against your hand, looking at him expectantly.

"Stroke yourself for me. I want you to show your Mistress how you like to be touched."

Jungkook's pupils darkened at the sound of your instructions. He lowered his gaze, hooked his right hand around the base of his cock, and squeezed. A groan slipped from the back of his throat as he held firm, preparing himself to pleasure his dick for a stranger.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," he confessed, gritting his teeth as his palm softened and moved slowly down his length. His pace was slower than you imagined it would be for his age and athleticism, but as you sat next to him in his favorite noodle shop, you appreciated the tenderness with which he stroked, the way he let his hand rise and fall while deliberately avoiding the swollen tip. You smirked as you made mental notes of the pressure he used and the rhythm he preferred; it was your intention to study him with the utmost attention.

After several strokes, Jungkook huffed in frustration and creased his brow. You had wondered whether he was actually planning on finishing himself off with a dry hand and no lubricant. Some clients were into chafing, but the irritated sound from within his lungs let you know he was not one of those people.

"Can I have lube?" he faltered, closing his eyes as he tried to stay focused. "I—do you have any?"

"What do you use when you have no lube?" you asked matter-of-factly, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Spit," he chuckled, embarrassed by his own response.

"Well then," you teased the outer curve of his ear with your finger, "what are you waiting for? You have a task to complete, Jungkook."

"M-my mouth is too dry, I can't." His voice strained as the obstacle to his sought-after end became more apparent.

You rubbed his shoulder reassuringly as your stomach twisted in delight, selecting the next card to play. "I can...if you say please."

Jungkook expelled a sigh upon realizing one of the benefits of masturbating with an audience present. Turning to you, he softened his expression to the point of feigning innocence, and earnestly pleaded, "Please Mistress, can you help me?"

You chuckled.  _He's good_.

“Help you with what? Be specific now.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip before answering. “Help me touch myself for you.”

The involuntary pulse between your legs became hurled toward the back of your mind.

"Open your hand, baby," you replied, gently stilling his hand to stop him from chafing himself. He offered his open palm and you lifted it close your mouth, stroking the edge of his thumb with yours—then launched a liberal amount of spit into the center of his hand.

"Get to it," you commanded firmly.

"Thank you, Mistress," he said, renewing his efforts as he resumed long, ardent strokes along his cock.

Humored by his continued use of manners, you replied, "You're quite welcome."

As Jungkook placated his carnal needs, you observed how every muscle in his body adjusted to fulfill the task. It was a delicious sight to behold and your throat tightened as you quickly grew aroused by the display. There was something pure about the way the young man quieted his mind and closed his eyes, resolutely focused on the end goal. The only sounds heard in the room were the strained pants and swallows emanating from him. He was being very careful, and very much in control, and you wanted to test his resolve.

"You're doing a fine job, Jungkook," you began, causing his focus to wane. "I want you to continue at this pace, but I want you to keep your eyes closed and not open them until I say—no matter what happens."

His hand's pace skipped. "What do you mean 'no matter what happens'?"

"I mean that I'm going to test your willingness to follow directions and you're going to obey me or there will be consequences. Is that understood?" you scolded, raising your eyebrow at yet another question.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Mistress." He nodded enthusiastically and appeared regretful of his mistake. His eyes closed and he continued the drags of his warm grip against his flesh. When you were satisfied that he had returned to a comfortable state, you lowered your face toward his erect nipple, pursed your lips, and blew a chilly breeze over it. Jungkook flinched immediately and your eyes darted above you to see if he had dared to take a peek at what you were doing. But his eyes remained obediently closed, so you blew again.

Goosebumps began to scatter along the outer rim of his areola, and you felt him tense again.

"Mistress?"

"Yes?" you hummed playfully, as if it were just another day.

"Am I allowed to make noise?"

He sounded like he was on the brink of trembling after feeling the effect of you simply blowing on his sensitive nub. His hand continued to move in sweeping motions along his dick as he waited on your response.

"Of course, baby," you cooed, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Hearing your sweet voice would please me a great deal. But remember, we aren't playing at home yet. You're going to need to control yourself. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he sounded relieved, keeping his eyes closed as he had been instructed.

A smile stretched across your features. "Good, now keep going. I want to you to show me what you've got."

He bobbed his head as he refocused on the task he was to complete. Quietly, you lowered your face to his chest again and delivered a swift sweep of your tongue against his stiff bud. He whimpered softly, increasing the tempo of his hand, so you offered him another lick, this time in a soft circular motion. His skin was taut and smooth under your taste buds, and you continued to tease until he dropped his jaw and released a low groan of pleasure.

"May I please have more, Mistress?" he panted, taking a gamble on being greedy by asking for additional favors.

Your eyes trailed down his abdomen to find it clenching under his labored breaths, his forearms adorned with the prominent veins signaling that he was giving you—and himself—his complete effort. No words left your mouth, but you answered his request by wrapping your soft lips around his areola and sucking, trapping his nipple in a tight, warm seal. As he hissed, you lifted your arm and traced your fingernail around his other nipple, then gave it a little pinch and roll between your fingers.

"F-fuck...," he whined, a layer of perspiration forming at his temple. "Thank you, thank you, Mistress." His words tumbled like a chant as he approached his end.

You continued your ministrations against his chest as you watched the fervor of his hand, lightly smacking against the base of his cock with each stroke.  _He's so close now...I wonder if..._ Your thoughts floated aimlessly in your mind as your next move took shape.

You decided to test his pain threshold by sinking your teeth into the flesh of his chest muscle, flicking your tongue back and forth against him. He squirmed in his seat, releasing a moan as he felt you pinch your fingers harder, working his nipple over as he teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. You knew tactics like this could hurt, but your previous conversation with Jungkook on his birthday gave you the license to administer more pressure than was standard. You needed to see and feel his body react, to test how much he could handle. After all, sensitive nipples could be the gateway to another plane of pleasure for him—or a barricade. It was essential to determine now, when he was so close to orgasm, how far you could go, at least to plan your proper playtime he would be paying for in the future.

You waited for the sound of him giving his safeword, but it never came. Instead, Jungkook’s whines and writhing intensified and you felt your face grow hot as you listened to his mewling. Your mind drifted as you wondered what other titillating activities could produce a sound so pleasant to your ears.

"I'm going to come," he pleaded urgently. The sound of his neediness was like music, and after watching him commit the lewd act in the rear of the restaurant, you didn't have the restraint to order him to ask permission first.

Moving quickly, you snatched a cloth napkin from the surface of the table and draped it over his blurring hand.

"Open your eyes," you spoke firmly. His dark pupils were blown out, focused on your face as it came into view, and the sight of them was enough to make you feel the tinge of guilt from biting him so soon in your arrangement. You placed your hand over the napkin and gave the last command. 

"Come on then, baby boy. Dirty this napkin for me."

Jungkook gave no verbal response as his body tensed and he threw his head back against the seat. His free hand flew to land on top of yours, which was still clinging to the cloth shrouding his dirty deed. The entirety of his body went rigid as his release began to rack his limbs, but the hand touching yours remained gentle, almost affectionate. He moaned to himself, nodding slowly in affirmation as he milked his cock, the expression on his face as warm as the pink hues which had settled into his cheeks. You pressed your thighs together as you watched him finish, and you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so eager for a new playmate.

"That's it...," you whispered, grinning ear to ear as you eased him out of his high.

When his body slumped against the back of his chair, you slipped your hand out from under his and pulled the napkin away. The fabric was still heated from his emission, crumpled in your clutching fingers. You tried to swallow down the feelings of possession that were bubbling to the surface as you held it in your hand, reminding yourself that you were technically working for free.  _He’s going to be worth it though_ , you deliberated with yourself as you reviewed his willingness to follow directions. Not only had he done exactly what you asked—twice—but he remained polite and reserved, unlike some of your other clients close to his age who were rather demanding and bratty.

Jungkook rested quietly as he savored the last fleeting moments of bliss and his breathing returned to normal. He seemed to be reflecting on the experience by the way his eyes were panning slowly over the aged, beige ceiling tiles hanging overhead. You tenderly folded the corners of the napkin to trap his cum properly, preventing any unwanted spillage, and tucked it away in your bag with a light chuckle.

"You're keeping that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Would you like for me to leave your dirty memento for Jen instead?" you quipped. "She may give you a discount on the next lunch special for this degree of gratitude."

Jungkook laughed as he slipped himself back into his pants. He pulled his shirt over his head, continuing to ponder. "How did I do?"

The question puzzled you. "Are you looking for a formal evaluation?"

"I don't want to be a disappointment," he clarified with a pressed line of his lips.  _Ah, still young and insecure_ , you mused, now aware that Jungkook would likely ask for some sort of feedback after his sessions in the future.

"Jungkook, you will only become a disappointment if you don't follow my rules. We are still getting acquainted with each other, but since you asked," you paused, "I would say early on you should let me know how much pain you want. I can guess, of course, but you know what feels good. I need you to tell me so I can remember for next time."

"I really liked your teeth," he blurted aloud.

"Good," you replied encouragingly. "I'll use those plenty then. Do you also like dull pain, or is it mostly sharp pain?"

"Mm, sharp pain?" he guessed. "But maybe we can try both, I don't know."

"It's okay if you don't know. We'll try them out and see at a later time."

You prepared to make your exit from the restaurant by sending Jen a quick text to let her know you would be leaving shortly. When the message had been delivered, you grinned at your young charge. "Well, it's time for this evening to draw to a close, I'm afraid," you began, moving to approach the door. Jungkook hastened to grab the knob and hold the door for you, and you slowed your steps to ensure he had enough time to complete the task. "Thank you," you conveyed appreciatively. "Will you wait outside for me?"

"But...I need to pay," Jungkook responded, looking confused by the way you shook your head in objection.

"This one's on me, baby."

He creased his brow in defeat, understanding it would be pointless to argue, so he left you to pay for the meal and stepped outside to wait. Jen walked by and you nodded your head in her direction, sending a silent sign of thanks to her for helping broker another business deal. You made sure your tip for the restaurant communicated your gratitude.

When you opened the main door to the noodle shop, you embraced the chill of the night air as it greeted you. Jungkook had leaned against the bricks of the building with slackened shoulders as he took in the evening breeze, appearing relaxed as ever.

"It was a pleasure meeting with you." You offered your hand, chuckling when he grasped it but was unsure what to do after that. "You shake it in public, and kiss it in private."

"My apologies," he said bashfully, before shaking your hand with a firm grip characteristic of his profession. "I'm still learning your way of doing things."

"You'll learn quickly, don't worry," you assured him. "Do you have any questions for me before we part ways?"

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. "When can we meet again?"

"Eager, are we?"

He cleared his throat and blushed slightly, looking away as he said nothing. You patted his forearm playfully. "I'm only teasing. To answer your question, I'm not sure yet. I need some time to clear you, and then I'll contact you to set up a meeting time. It shouldn't take too long, but in the meantime, you can text me if you come up with any specific activities or ideas you'd like to try."

"All right," he accepted. "Would you like for me to walk you to your car?"

"I have to make another call, but I appreciate the offer. Take care of yourself, Ramen."

He perked up at the mention of his presumed name and offered his well-wishes to you before turning on his heel and crossing the street toward his car. When you were confident you were alone, you pulled out your phone and began a new voice note:

"Met with Ramen tonight to negotiate arrangement. Agreed to terms. Review camera feed to confirm all responses recorded to questionnaire. Highly sensitive nipples, enjoys hair pulling and biting. Prefers sharp pain but is open to experiment. Comes on command and is very eager to please. Responds to 'baby' and 'baby boy'."

 _I could go on, but this is enough_ , you thought, saving the file and sending it to your cloud drive. After the file uploaded successfully, you rattled off a few taps on your phone to make your last call of the evening.

"Good evening, Catherine," answered the tired voice on the other end of the line.

"Sorry it's late, Leo," you started, feeling regretful already for calling at a later hour than usual. "I uploaded everything to the cloud, minus the feed. Do you have everything you need to get started with the check?"

Leo yawned into the receiver. "Is this a standard check?"

"Yes, I don't think we'll need more than that."

"Then yea, it's all here. His handwriting though...is he a jumpy fella?" he laughed.

"Be nice, he's a sweetheart," you scolded lightly, defending your client. "He seems pretty harmless."

"I'll be the judge of that,” Leo corrected. “He's a salesman. You can never be quite sure with those."

"Ah, you're right," you conceded, remembering the last salesman you had investigated had lied about being married. "How much time do you need to get it done?"

"A week should do it, I'm not too backed up. Plus, he's young; it's mostly online stuff."

"Great, I'll see you next week."

* * *

 

The following week you took the drive downtown to meet with Leo, the private investigator who had been on your payroll for years, ever since you discovered the hard way one of your clients wasn't who he said he was and you ended up in the hospital with multiple contusions and a broken rib. Leo's office was located behind an unmarked glass door in one of the seediest buildings in that neighborhood. The hall leading from the elevator to his place reeked of cat piss, but you knew he preferred it because the rent was cheap and no one asked questions or poked around.

Most of his clients were the sort of people who preferred hiring via the dark web. They often used pseudonyms and paid cash or from an offshore account like you did, but Leo never minded conducting business this way. It wasn't like he was a retired police officer like so many other private investigators in town. You weren't sure what his career had been previously, but considering his relatively young age, you suspected he was some sort of security analyst or hacker in a previous life. Maybe he still was, at least based on the kind of information he had been able to supply over the years. In any case, you knew better than to pry and find out. He was the only one you’d found who didn't ask questions whenever you showed up with a new client to be vetted, and he always delivered exactly what you asked for in a timely manner.

The door to his office creaked noisily as you entered. You found Leo lounging in his oversized, ergonomically-adjusted office chair, his long legs crossed nonchalantly and resting on the surface of his desk. Despite the fact he rarely left his office or met with clients in person, he always wore a dark suit, cut flatteringly for his tall, lean frame.

"You are one cigarette away from being in an old Hollywood detective movie," you greeted with a smirk.

Leo's face remained stoic and devoid of amusement. "And damage my dulcet singing voice? Not gonna happen."

"I don't even think you sing." You narrowed your eyes, hoping to get him to finally crack and showcase his secret talent. "You got that tall drink of water, mystery man vibe going, but I'm not buying it."

"You don't look like a prostitute," he frowned. "Maybe I don't buy  _that_."

"You've never seen me at work, honey." You winked, taking a seat across from his desk.

Leo paused as he evaluated your argument. "Fair enough."

Reclining back in your chair, you felt satisfied at another round of playful banter between you and your employee. "So, what do you have for me?"

"For Ramen, yes?" he asked, swinging his legs off the desk.

"Yes," you confirmed, scooting closer to Leo's desk.

“Not much, he’s a bit boring for his age," Leo murmured as he began opening multiple files on his computer, all the records he had pulled and procured in the course of his investigation. "His spending habits are interesting: video game subscriptions  _and_ exclusive gym memberships. I usually don't see those together."

"How much money does he have?" you inquired, seeking to confirm your client had the financial means to pay you.

Leo tilted his head and continued the soft clicks of his mouse. “Well, I would have expected student loan debt at his age, but the only debt he has is a car payment and a mortgage.”

“I thought he lived in an apartment. So, he’s affluent?”

“You’d have to be to live in that condo. He just bought it. I ran a full financial sweep after checking out the place. I thought he was a trust fund kid at first, but his parents make less than he does."

“Does he have any foreign accounts?” you asked. "Is he a drug dealer? How is he making so much?”

“Surprisingly, no foreign accounts. The money is in his name. No joint accounts, no suspicious business accounts. He is pulling down good money and it appears to be legit. It's sporadic, of course, but I expect that for a sales position like his. The company is doing extremely well. I should have bought stock in it back when you had me check it out years ago for that other guy. There’s no cause for concern with Ramen financially.”

You mulled over the information and concluded, "Well, that's a relief. How does he spend his time? Is he seeing anyone?"

"He works a lot. Goes in at the same time every morning, but comes home at different times. I followed him a couple days and he's always at the office. Some of his financial transactions show he goes out a couple times a month and pays for more than just his meal, but his communications and social media show he's very single. I think he dates, but he's not  _with_ anyone. I even checked his gaming profiles," Leo added, sounding proud of how thoroughly he had checked everything.

You folded your hands in your lap and nodded as you took in what he said. "Does Ramen have any suspicious travel patterns?"

"For a salesperson? No," he answered, opening a web browser to check another record. "Nearly all of his travel is domestic and done through the week. The costs are charged to a company credit card and he gets reimbursed in full for those expenses on a regular basis. He's squeaky clean and very boring. I was rather disappointed, if I’m being honest."

Huffing sarcastically, you replied, "Hey, this is good news for me."

"Oh, I bet," Leo chuckled. "You're the most dangerous element in his life now. Be kind to the poor kid."

You rolled your eyes and moved to stand from your chair, taking your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. "He'll be taken care of. I appreciate you doing all this for me. Your information is always top notch."

Leo lifted his finger to interrupt. "Uh, there's one other thing."

"About Ramen?" You raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No. The one guy you had me keeping track of…," he mumbled as his fingers typed frantically across the keys. "What was his name—Slate? Obsidian?"

_Fuck._

"Onyx," you corrected in a low tone as you felt your blood run cold, then extremely hot. "Did you find him?"

"Yea, he booked a travel itinerary yesterday. It’s out of the Balkans this time, well in advance for him. I'm not sure why it's booked so early. Not his style, you know."

"He was in Norway before. How the hell did he get to the Balkans?" you pressed.

Leo sighed, looking frustrated. "You know I don't know how he's doing it, Cat. He's in a different place every time I find him. He probably used another name again; he has at least four aliases we know of."

"Hm." You gnawed your lip, feeling troubled by his response. "Is he flying commercial or private aircraft?"

"Commercial, surprisingly. Probably why I found it so early." Leo shook his head, continuing to press at the keys. “It’s uncharacteristic travel for him.”

Your chest felt heavy, burdened by the newfound knowledge that one of your oldest clients, Onyx, was coming back into town. It had been nearly six months of waiting for him to return, and since your last encounter you had asked Leo to track his movements. It was invasive in so many ways, not to mention illegal, but you had your reasons.

"When will he be here?" you posed the question hesitantly.

Leo minimized his browser and looked toward you. "End of next season. I just forwarded you all the information you need."

Your hand twisted around the handle of your bag which rested like dead weight on your shoulder. "Thank you, Leo. I appreciate you letting me know."

As you turned to make your exit, Leo interjected, "Hey, do you want me to keep tracking him for now?"

A deep exhale brushed across your lips. "There's no need. He'll find me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mistress has her first session with Ramen, her newest client.
> 
> Excerpt:
> 
> _"I'm a little nervous," he admitted._
> 
> _"It's my job to make sure you don't stay that way," you reassured, placing your palms on his shoulders. "Just relax and remember your safeword, communicate with me, and I'll do the rest."_
> 
> _"Okay," he mumbled, his body calming under your touch. "May I open my present?"_
> 
> _The corners of your mouth turned upward as you responded, "You may."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jungkook x OC
> 
> Genre: Smut
> 
> Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Domme!OC, BDSM, sex work, femdom, sexual themes, nipple play, masturbation, teasing, edging, overstimulation, sex toys, profanity
> 
> POV: 2nd Person (from the Mistress’ perspective)

The imposing, gray duffel bag felt heavy and burdensome in your grip as you approached the entrance to Ramen's building. You hadn't considered whether any security would be there, but now that you were standing at the door, feeling the wind’s chill across your bare legs, you hoped no one would come around asking what was in the bag or what was under your black trench coat.

Everything about the building looked new and prepackaged, fresh out of the box, down to the list of numbers assigned to each condo owner. Every unit number etched in stainless steel lettering felt intimidating, but you swallowed down your nerves as you pressed the buzzer next to your client's number: 1174.

"Hello?" Jungkook's voice called from the speaker.

"Is that any way to greet me?" you scolded in a playful tone, having slipped into character sooner than you planned.  _Why am I nervous_ , you wondered, before quickly dismissing the thought.

Your client cleared his voice sharply as he realized his mistake. "Please accept my apologies, Mistress. I'll buzz you in."

The front door of the building chimed and you pulled on the handle to enter. It was a short distance to the elevator, but the trek was long enough to detect the faint traces of freshly deodorized carpets. The building must have been quite new to still smell like industrial soap, but you were resolved to remain calm and ignore the urge to examine the ceilings for signs of surveillance. It was another day at work, and you were heading toward your client’s unit to commit a crime—but you refused to look ashamed for doing it.

Jungkook opened the door after the third knock and looked very enthused to see you by the happy, youthful grin on his face.  _So young_ , you recollected as you felt the twist of guilt in your belly, reminding yourself that he was older than he looked and knew the rules. He was a client above all else and it was your job to treat him accordingly, no matter how innocent he appeared.

"Good evening, Mistress," he greeted with a bow of his head, motioning for the duffel bag. "Here, let me take that for you."

"Thank you," you accepted with a pleasing expression, handing him the bag and rubbing your shoulder.

Jungkook raised his eyebrow and commented, "Seems kinda heavy. What do you have in here?"

"My equipment for our playtime, baby," you flirted, savoring the zest of amusement as your eye caught your client’s grin as he placed your bag on the floor.

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered, walking toward the kitchen.

It was strange how questions like that made you soften your demeanor. It wasn't common for clients to offer you things like drinks, a napkin, access to a bathroom—at least not at first. Jungkook appeared to be the type of person who trusted others too soon. He was kind, respectful, from a modest family, and that made you feel sorry he had resorted to hiring a sex worker to find the outlet he was looking for. You suspected he would be the sort of client to seek girlfriend roleplay, which was a role you hadn't filled in quite some time and you weren't sure you should. After all, he could form binding attachments and then may stop looking for a real partner. As much as you welcomed the extra money, it wasn't worth the cost of his future relationships.

"Water would be nice," you answered. "You should have some too, actually. We need to talk before we get started."

His dark eyes looked puzzled as he grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and placed them side by side on the countertop. You approached him to observe the task of dropping a couple of ice cubes into each glass, keeping a watchful eye on his hands and where they were going.

"You must be pretty thirsty," he remarked nervously, aware of how closely you were monitoring him.

"Don't take it personally," you eased, "but I'm watching you make my drink for safety reasons."

"I get it," he replied, taking his water pitcher from the refrigerator and pouring each glass. "Which one do you prefer?"

Your hand reached for the one closest to your view. "I appreciate it. It's a little warm under this coat."

"Is there a present for me under there?" he asked suggestively, taking his water and setting it on the small table in the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and offered you a place to sit, then scooted your chair gently back under the table.

"As a matter of fact, yes," you smirked, taking a sip of your drink. Your eyes drifted about the room a moment as Jungkook seated himself. A crisp, new sheet of paper with an all-too-familiar letterhead hung on the stainless-steel surface of the refrigerator.

"Is that your report card on the fridge door?" you quipped.

"Ah, right," he recalled, reaching to retrieve the sheet and pass it toward you. Your eyes scanned over his results and you waited, feeling for his reaction to you reading his STI screening results.

"Do I pass?" His eyes darkened as he took a drink, knowing you would find negative results and he would be in the clear.

You cleared your throat, pulled your own results out of your coat pocket, and slid them across the table.

"Why does the room feel tense?" he murmured, as if to himself, as his eyes reviewed your results and nodded with satisfaction.

"Because you know that I'm going to fuck you," you interjected, "but you don't know when that will happen in your evening. You don't know what I'm going to ask of you or what I'm going to make you do beforehand."

"What  _are_  you going to ask me to do?" The rasp in his voice was easy to detect in the silence of the room.

Your fingers traced along the edge of your coat's collar, then tugged at it a little just to show a peek of cleavage. "Well, what interests you? What kind of woman should I play: a warm, maternal figure, or a cold, distant stranger? Should I play to own you in the fullest sense, or simply control you for my pleasure? You have some say in the fantasy you're paying for."

Jungkook frowned as it became clear he hadn't fully considered the wide array of choices. "What would you suggest? For someone new, I mean...."

"I think the temptress would be best. Someone who can be affectionate and passionate, but tries to break you in little ways," you trailed off, mind fluttering with ideas.

"How should I behave?" He blinked slowly, hanging on every word you were saying.

You blushed slightly at his insistence on being the perfect pupil. "That all depends on what kind of reaction you want from me. You should be servile, do everything I say, that sort of thing. But if you want punishment, you can try to test my patience and disobey, roll the dice with your fate. You may not be happy with the result. If you want to be rewarded, you either have to be extra obedient or handle punishment well. I assume, based on what I know, that it would be easier for you to be my good boy tonight." You winked at the last sentence and relished how his throat looked when he swallowed nervously. "You can experiment with these choices, of course," you added.

"Am I allowed to touch you?" he asked softly, pairing the sweetness of his voice with stares from behind his dark doe eyes.

 _Ah, he's going to be a talker_ , you predicted, not feeling too surprised by his choice to drag out the conversation, given his day job.

Lowering your voice, you enticed your client. "Touch me where?"

"...wherever you let me, Mistress," he hinted, setting aside his empty glass.

Your mind tried its hardest to ignore the throb between your legs. It was manifesting too early in the evening.  _Fuck, have I underestimated him_ , you wondered, meeting his gaze which shifted between ravishment and looking as vulnerable as ever. You knew in order to play the temptress, you would have to let go of yourself a little and surrender to some of your baser inhibitions, but you felt almost embarrassed by how affected you were by someone who was not only inexperienced at this type of play, but was quite a few years younger. It was surprising to you, as the last client who asked for the temptress roleplay was supremely annoying—a consumer of too much hardcore porn—and you spent so much of your evening forcing your responses and pretending to enjoy it that you refused to work for him again.

As you stood from your seat and inspected your newest client seated across from you, a gut feeling stirred, giving you the assurance that you wouldn't be faking with this one tonight.

"Are you ready to begin?" you inquired, trying to calm the excitement in your voice.

Jungkook smiled and nodded, standing from his seat to approach you. "I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

"It's my job to make sure you don't stay that way," you reassured, placing your palms on his shoulders. "Just relax and remember your safeword, communicate with me, and I'll do the rest."

"Okay," he mumbled, his body calming under your touch. "May I open my present?"

The corners of your mouth turned upward as you responded, "You may."

His fingers rose to the center of your waist to loosen the knot holding your coat in place. As the long panels of the coat parted, his eyes raked over your body to take in every detail of the outfit you picked for him. Choosing from the less aggressive end of your wardrobe, you selected a black stretch lace babydoll that hugged every curve of your breasts and waist. The top of the dress was traced in leather, because how could you not include it when you were such a fan of the material. You could see from the way Jungkook hummed in his throat that he appreciated it was see-through, offering him a tempting glimpse of the black lace panties you paired with the outfit. Your legs were bare, mostly out of ease because you assumed Jungkook would want sex quickly and not want to bother with the fastenings of a full garter set this first meeting.

"Do you like the color?" you prompted, trying to gauge how you should plan future outfits for him.

"It's my favorite," he murmured, entranced by the choice of clothing.

"I'm glad, baby," you cooed, celebrating an early victory. "Go on, you can touch."

Upon receiving the green light to put his hands on you, Jungkook slipped his arms inside of the coat and pulled your body close to his. As you pressed against him, you could sense his heart rate had accelerated. His palms were warm against the small of your back and you felt your knees weaken under his hold. You shimmied your shoulders out of the increasingly hot coat and tossed it aside in a heap on the floor. He bent his head, and you lifted your chin ready to receive the first kiss which you surmised would set you aflame.

He pressed his lips to yours, making the first move, as you expected. It was tender and communicated his eagerness, the sensation ushering relief because it meant he wanted you. If he was actively pursuing what he wanted, he would perform well in the hopes of being rewarded. Still, the kiss wasn't forceful or rushed; he had the capacity for patience and you felt assured he would be able to endure the delayed gratification.

You could tell by the way he moved his lips that he was comfortable in this territory. Sex was an activity he had participated in before, and often, by the way he quickly adjusted his movements to complement yours. The confirmation of his skill was as pleasing as his taste, and you tested him further by licking softly against the seal of his mouth to coax his tongue to play.

When his tongue brushed against yours, it summoned heat into your cheeks.  _When was the last time I was kissed this way_ , you wondered, unable to recall the exact time and place. Kissing always felt more intimate to you than the actual sex, and many of your clients felt the same way, so it often never happened. Jungkook's lack of experience with sex workers, however, made him more likely to attach himself and become more intimate with you. Knowing that made you nervous, but not nervous enough to stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. His hands migrated down the slope of your back to rest on the curve of your buttocks. You waited for him to squeeze your flesh, as so many had in the past, but he didn't. Perhaps he calculated correctly that handling you that way was possessive and may provoke a punishment. Perhaps he was just polite. In any case, you were growing more excited to play with him, and selfishly so.

As you tugged on the button of his dark jeans, he planted worshipful open-mouthed kisses along the slope of your neck. It was probably for the best that he couldn't see how much you enjoyed it. You felt yourself waning, knowing you had to work quickly to prevent from being reduced to a puddle. The tips of your fingers jerked the zipper down with a sharp zip as your hand plunged into his boxers to greet his dick, already hard and hot to the touch. Wrapping your hand around it felt like reclaiming something which had been stolen. Your grip on him was intense and possessive, and the moment he felt you seize control he whimpered into the crook of your neck.

You chuckled as you felt his hands falter and become unfocused, his mind too fixated on the pleasure of having you touch him at last.

"Finally, we can get acquainted," you hummed in his ear.

He loosened his grip against your back as you kept his dick firmly clutched in your hand. Pulling on him slowly, you controlled his movements, ushering him from the kitchen to his living room. He was yours to control, and you felt the rush of it when his eyes began to dilate and he allowed himself to be led to the center of the room.

Releasing your hold, you took a step backward and commanded, "Take off your shirt, slowly."

His hands reached behind his head and grabbed the back of his white shirt, pulling it at half his normal speed. The fabric rubbed harshly against his hair, causing the raven locks to appear disheveled. The muscles which adorned his chest and abdomen were more intimidating from his standing position, but more notable was his breathing—uncharacteristically calm, like a soft breeze. Your memory recalled how nervous he had been when he was at the noodle shop weeks ago, but now, in the privacy of his home, he was more relaxed. He looked ready.

"Pants. Lose them." Your words sliced through the thickening atmosphere.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and swiftly shirked himself of the article of clothing, nudging them to the side. Your eyes inspected his toned body with interest as you sauntered closer to him.

"Your nipples still hard to the touch, baby?" you teased, pursing your lips and blowing on his areola. It was your hope that your client would recall the sensation as one you had done in the back room of his favorite noodle shop.

His hands dropped to cover the tent in his boxers, but he smirked nonetheless. "Always."

"I bet you want your Mistress to play with them again, hm?"

"Yes, please," he answered, clearly hoping to get another round of the treatment he had experienced previously.

"Tell me," you persuaded with an affectionate brush of your hand along his cheek, "would you like for me to play teasingly and sweet—or harshly?"

Jungkook's eyes searched your face, finding no indicators to influence his decision. You ensured it was truly his choice by remaining unreadable, so he requested what he truly wanted.

"Harshly."

 _Yes_ , you celebrated with an excitable fluttering in your chest.

Pointing your finger to the center of his chest, you continued. "Do you think you can earn the privilege?"

He straightened his shoulders at the challenge. "I will work hard to earn it, Mistress."

 _Good answer_ , you noted.  _He's ready_.

"How many days a week do you work out, Jungkook?"

"Usually four times a week."

Satisfied with his response, you explained further. "Well, I want you to work out for me. I want that gorgeous body of yours to break a sweat. I want you to get good and warmed up for me before I play with you properly."

He nodded as he listened. "How do you want me to work out?"

Smiling wickedly, you strolled to your large, gray duffel bag, unzipped the largest section, and pulled out a long metal bar and a set of leather cuffs.

"With these," you remarked playfully. You set the bar on the ground by his feet and wrapped the first cuff around his right hand, then the second around his left. Slipping your finger under the leather, you checked to make sure they weren't too tight on him. "How do they feel?"

"These are pretty nice," he commented.

"That's because they're new and just for you, baby," you said, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Now," you paused to bend over, flashing more flesh from your breasts for his viewing pleasure, "this is called a spreader bar. This one’s adjustable. I usually use it on naughty submissives who don't spread their legs properly for me, but tonight I want to shackle your wrists to it."

You moved to attach his wrists to the ends of the bar, spreading it a little wider to allow the metal rod to rest comfortably on his shoulders. "How does that feel?"

"Cold," he grinned, referring to the chill of the metal against his skin.

"You'll warm up soon enough, trust me. Now, here's what I require: You will squat for ten reps, then you will get down on your knees and stand back up on your feet, for ten reps. You will perform these two exercises with your hands at or above shoulder level, whichever ends up being more comfortable for you as time progresses."

Jungkook adjusted the bar against his shoulders with an air of confidence at being given a task that seemed too easy. "How many sets?"

"Tsk, you puff out that chest but forget that I break men for a living, baby," you laughed, planting your hand on your hip. "You will continue the exercise until I'm satisfied or you cry 'ramen', whichever comes first. Your job is to entertain me while preserving your energy for what's to come. This is a marathon, not a sprint."

Your client’s stance softened at your words, but his face grew more focused. He had been given a task to complete and was keen on pleasing you and meeting your expectations.

Stepping forward to move closer to him, you brushed your fingertips along his chin. "I trust you'll do your best for me, hm? You'll work hard?"

"Yes, Mistress," he assured, rubbing his cheek affectionately against your hand before placing a kiss in your open palm.

You could hear the soft metallic rattling of his cuffs against the bar across his shoulders. It was one of your favorite sounds for all the power it bestowed upon you, and you knew that once he grew tired enough, the cuffs would rattle even more. The heels of your shoes tapped against his floors as you initiated an authoritative pace in front of him.

"You may begin."

He spread his feet shoulder-width apart and commenced the exercise, bending his knees as his body lowered into a squat. As you expected, his form was practiced and controlled, lacking any flaws. You anticipated it was only a matter of time before he would falter, but for now you enjoyed the sight of his muscles flexing to place his body in the perfect position. While he dipped down and lifted back into his neutral position, his eyes followed yours, reading them in the hopes of gleaning a preliminary evaluation. The features of your face held no meaning as you focused on keeping yourself as expressionless as possible. It was too early to give him praise, even if you were entertained by the spectacle of having an almost-naked young man exercising while shackled to a metal bar.

After Jungkook completed the first ten reps of squats, he softened his gaze as he knelt on the floor, pressing both knees into the wood beneath him, then stood back up. Your eyes pierced his as you observed the subservient gesture, almost daring him to make a misstep. He seemed to understand your intention of intimidating him, and that compelled him to part his lips and lower his eyelids to make him appear more vulnerable. A mischievous fluttering in your stomach emerged, as you knew Jungkook couldn't have been tired yet, not with the routine workout schedule he kept. He was playing with you, doing his part to fill the role that had been given to him. You continued to pace in silence, adjusting your walk to move behind him as well, just so he could feel your eyes inspect the back of his body and be unable to turn around.

After two more sets had been completed, you detected a change in Jungkook's breathing and determined it was time to raise the stakes and break his concentration. Grabbing a chair from the kitchen, you placed it a few feet in front of him and took a seat, noting the way his brow creased in confusion. You sat looking as salacious as possible as the fingers of your left hand brushed gently against the straps of your left shoulder. It appeared as though you were considering a tease, but not fully committed to giving him one. Jungkook pressed his lips together as he quickly caught on to your game. Upon seeing the shift in his countenance, you felt motivated to trace your forefinger over your shoulders, hooking into the leather straps of your lingerie and pulling them down, exposing more of your breasts.

"Your chest looks so attractive and toned with your arms shackled like that, Jungkook," you calmly complimented, feeling the fabric over your breasts begin to slip.

He huffed, affected by the display. "I'm happy you’re enjoying the view, Mistress—even though I want to bury my face in your chest right now."

 _Oh, a bold response_ , you mused cheerfully.

"Is that right?" you asked, batting your eyelashes and continuing to exude enticement.

"Mhm," he nodded as he started a new set of squats with more determination.

"Do you think you're deserving of these?" You posed the question as you pulled the top of your lace dress down completely, providing him a full view of your bare breasts. Jungkook's throat bobbed with a heavy swallow as he began to squat at a slower pace, and you intensified the distraction by caressing your swells of flesh with a relaxed hum. "Answer me," you mandated firmly.

"I don't deserve them, Mistress," he confessed in a wounded voice.

"And why is that?"

Jungkook's knees pressed to the floor. "Because I'll never be worthy of you."

 _Perfect answer, he prepared well for me_ , you confirmed, observing him standing up only to kneel again.

"That's correct, baby boy," you agreed, continuing to drag your fingertips over your chest, "but I can be generous and reward you from time to time. Would you like that?"

"Yes, please."

"How tired are you? Can you keep going?"

Jungkook's breathing sounded labored, but he was determined to not show an ounce of weakness. "I can keep going."

"Good," you responded, leaning back in your seat and spreading your legs with a wicked expression. "Don't lose your concentration, now. I will not tolerate slacking."

Your client groaned when he saw your nails rake deliberately across the tops of your thighs, pushing the stretchy fabric further up your body. His eyes bored hungrily between your legs. "I won't, Mistress. I'm extremely focused at the moment."

"I can see that," you chuckled, letting your warm palms drift tenderly over the softest parts of your inner thighs. "But are you going to stay focused?"

"Yes, Mistress," he urged with bated breath.

The pads of your fingertips ghosted over your core and you could almost hear the tension building in Jungkook's lungs as his breathing slowed. "Do you know how pleased it makes me to watch you work yourself into a sweat, just because I say so?"

You pressed a finger against the black lace of your panties, right at the top of your slit. "Do you know how wet you make your Mistress when you work hard for her?" Your fingertip traced slowly against your lower lips, right down the middle. You parted your lips gradually as you made the motion, granting you a small whine from the younger man. Your eyes fell on the painfully noticeable tent in his boxers, which you knew couldn't be sated or adjusted due to his bonds. "Am I making you  _uncomfortable_?"

He sighed aloud as a look of frustration fell over his perspiring face. "I-I'm...," he struggled to speak. "I'm extremely uncomfortable."

"Oh?" you perked up as you lifted your hand away and began to close your legs.

"Please don't stop!" he begged, his words tumbling out before his manners could show any restraint. He squeezed his eyes and panted as he resumed kneeling on the ground and standing back up, the impeccable form he once had now eroded by lust. His legs were shaking each time he stood, but you could see in his eyes that he had no intention of using his safeword. He would rather collapse first.

"Stop exercising and kneel on the floor. Now," you ordered, pulling your clothes back to their original position.

Jungkook collapsed haphazardly into a kneeling position, rotating his wrists as best he could to ease the tension in his muscles.

You chuckled, "We're going to have to work on you recognizing your limits, baby."

“I'm sorry,” he lamented, shaking his head. "I didn't think you were going to touch yourself like that.”

His honesty was a testament to his growing fatigue. The breaths exerted from his lungs remained at a rapid pace and his body was lacquered with copious amounts of sweat. He needed a rest, at least enough to lower his heart rate down to something safer. You moved quickly to unhook his wrists from the spreader bar behind his head.

"Rotate your shoulders a few times for me and take some deep breaths," you spoke with a softened tone.

"A-are we finished?" he asked hesitantly, moving his shoulders as you instructed.

"Oh no," you replied. "We’re just taking a short break. Unless you want to stop?"

"No, no," he answered too quickly. "I mean, I want more. I don't know how long we've been here, though."

 _He's getting nervous again_ , you observed. You pulled his arms behind his back and bent low, cuffing his wrists together, taking a few extra moments to selfishly spectate a single bead of sweat slide between his shoulder blades.

When you were sure his wrists were bound properly, you walked back to the kitchen and fetched him a glass of water. It was usually common to provide aftercare once all the play had been completed, but you were making a judgment call by providing some partway. Although he was athletic and could indeed handle a lot, it was clear to you he needed time to recharge a bit.

"Where do you keep your hand towels?" you called from the kitchen.

"In the drawer to the left of the stove."

You emerged from the kitchen with a towel draped over your right shoulder and the glass of water in your hand. Brushing your fingertips under his sweaty chin, you calmly instructed, "Drink slowly." He opened his mouth to receive the edge of the glass against his lips and began to drink, his eyes closing gently as he refueled his body with the refreshment it needed.

Once the glass was empty, you used the towel to pat away some of the sweat from his face. The docile countenance on his face was nothing short of angelic, and his breathing stabilized as his body relaxed. You bent low to blot the hand towel against his chest, shoulders, and back, to collect more perspiration. When you were finished, you straightened up and returned in front of him, then pressed your soft, open palm against his cheek while the fingers of your other hand carded gently through his damp hair.

"How do you feel right now?" you inquired in a nurturing tone.

"Strangely relaxed...," he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss into your hand. You were moved by the gesture, and decided to scratch his scalp a little more, making him sigh in comfort.

"How are you handling your dick alternating between getting hard and going soft?"

Jungkook was amused by your question as he glanced down and noticed he was flaccid again. "He'll be fine. You can drag this out and torture me as long as you want."

"Oh, I will," you replied, clinging to his hair with both hands and tugging on it gently to further release any tension. "Drop your shoulders and stay relaxed for me, okay?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

Returning to the chair, you grabbed the back of it and moved closer to him, then seated yourself and flipped the caretaker switch off in your mind as you resumed the work of the temptress.

"Now, as you finish your break, we are going to work on some communication," you began, slipping your straps back down and exposing your breasts again.

Jungkook's eyes hovered over your bare skin. "I can communicate a lot."

"I've noticed," you smirked, drawing your fingertips lightly over your shoulders. "It's important that I learn how you communicate pleasure—without pain to get it. It's also crucial that I understand how you communicate a want. Everyone does this a little differently, of course, but in this type of setting, using your words is best."

He looked distracted as you let your hands drift down to your legs and spread them for his view again. You could have skipped this step and proceeded to the next, but Jungkook's penchant for honesty grew leaps and bounds when his dick was hard enough, and that was the kind of information you needed to plan future sessions effectively. In addition, you suspected that communication was at the cornerstone of why he hadn't been able to find desirable partners on his own. So, your plan was to give him a little push to get him to spill the beans. You would get what you needed to plan, and he would have a nice memory to hang on to, while practicing advocating for his sexual needs.

"Let’s start with the first question,” you commenced. “What would make you feel pleasure right now?"

Jungkook paused and looked in your eyes, then back to your breasts. "You mean I can ask for things now?"

"Of course, baby. Being my submissive doesn't mean serving at your own expense and you get nothing out of it. Your pleasure matters, but you will obey my commands to get there. And I'm commanding you to tell me what would make his moment better for you."

"Oh," he said, licking his lips as he contemplated what you told him. "It would be nice if you touched yourself again."

"Touch where? How? Be specific," you pressed.

"Your chest, slowly...," he mumbled, losing words as he beheld you fulfilling his request.

You took your turn. "Sit back on your heels and spread your knees. I want to see your beautiful cock grow for me." Jungkook obeyed the command as he took a deep breath, flexing his shoulders until his handcuffs rattled behind him.

"It's your turn again, Jungkook," you reminded gently, as your skilled fingers compelled your nipples to stiffen, "but before you say it, know that after this you will be blindfolded. Whatever you ask for will be the last thing you see for quite some time, so you should choose wisely."

"I want to see you touch your pussy again." His voice was relaxed and his breathing had returned to normal. The request was ambitious and amusing to you, but the way he delivered it was almost endearing. He understood that you could refuse or be insulted by his words at any time, but that didn't stop him from being clear about what he wanted. You celebrated this small triumph, as it was essential that your client feel comfortable communicating freely. Everyone's manner of speaking and asking for things would change under the riding crop, the instrument which you neglected to mention was in Jungkook’s immediate future.

"You know, other clients would have asked to touch me directly," you remarked, slipping the edge of your lingerie up your thighs. "Why didn't you ask for that?"

"I like watching," he admitted. "Plus, I'm handcuffed."

Your fingers hooked the lace fabric of your panties and pulled them aside, revealing your folds for his enjoyment. He whispered a "thank you" that was barely audible as the soft pad of your forefinger traced along the edges of your sex at a slow drag.

Looking into his eyes with the piercing capability of a sharp spear, you countered, "You have a tongue, do you not?"

He grunted at the sight, his shaft growing stiff again at the prospect of getting to taste you. "Would you let me?"

 _Good, he wants to_ , you confirmed, mentally noting that future activities could include oral sex. You didn't want to give him everything he asked for the first night. If you were to share all of your tricks and treasures with him, he would have less incentive to call again. You had to play each of your cards correctly.

"Not tonight, baby," you sweetly rejected. "As much as I would love to grab you by the hair and force you to eat this pussy, I have other plans."

He frowned slightly, looking disappointed.

You halted your movements before closing your legs back together. Jungkook remained kneeling on the floor, with his backside resting against his heels and his knees parted. The next part of playtime wasn't something you originally planned on doing with a new client, but seeing as your last encounter at the noodle shop informed you of Jungkook's highly sensitive nipples and desire for pain, you figured it was only fitting to give him a proper re-introduction to the riding crop, your favorite tool in your arsenal.

Fishing the blindfold out of your gray duffel bag, you felt the stir of excitement. You knew the main reason for covering his eyes was to increase his sensitivity to touch, to intensify all sensory feelings. But admittedly, you also felt relief because you wouldn't have to look into the doe eyes of your client which were weakening your resolve as the night progressed. Gently sliding the blindfold over his head, you removed his capability for sight.

"Have you ever been blindfolded before?" you asked.

He paused as he formulated his answer. "Not like this."

"I see. I have to let you know this is going to intensify things for you quite a bit. A blindfold doesn't seem like much, but you may become uncomfortable or even frightened by what's going to happen next. Or, you may also become very overwhelmed with pleasure and enjoy this very much, based on our previous conversations. In any case, if you need me to stop at any time for any reason, use your safeword."

"Okay," he responded, turning his head to listen to the sound of your heels approaching your bag again. You pulled out the long, leather-bound instrument from your bag and flexed its handle to waken it for the work to come, then brushed the flat end of it across his bare shoulders.

"Do you remember this?" Your tone was low and cold like the chills that spread across his back as he recognized the tool.

"Yes, Mistress," he stated, his tone uneven. "It's the riding crop you used at my birthday."

"Correct," you affirmed. "I made your ass nice and pink with it in front of your friends, remember?"

His lips stretched happily across his face. "I remember it well."

"Good, then you won't mind if I use it again to tease your body and get it ready for me to fuck, right baby?"

"Not at all." His voice shook with excitement.

"That's what your Mistress likes to hear," you purred as you dragged the flat tongue of the instrument across his chest.

The leather end of the crop skidded over his skin, and the sensation of holding power in your hand once again was thrilling. This was the part of the job you lived for, the act of controlling a client's pleasure and dangling it in front of them. Your wrist teetered back and forth as you teased the leather over his right nipple—first slowly, like icing a delicious cake, then with increasing rapidity, until you appeared to be ringing a bell and demanding attention. Jungkook’s breathing accelerated under the sensation. The tip of his tongue swept along his bottom lip as he pressed his chest a tad closer to the end of the twitching crop, increasing its pressure against his nerve endings.

 _That's it_ , you watched with interest before abruptly pulling the crop away, holding it long enough for him to exhale, then whipped the end directly on his nipple with a sharp snap.

"Hngh—fuck…” Jungkook expelled from his lungs, the corners of his mouth twitching, unsure which emotion to demonstrate.

"What was that, baby?" you asked as you landed another smack of the tool against his chest.

He tilted his head back and moved his lips, muttering something but no sounds were coming out. The sight of him conversing with himself while blindfolded brought a wicked smile to your face. You spoke no words, not wanting to interrupt the moment your client was experiencing on his own. Dragging the flat leather tip to his other breast, you delivered two quick pops and then lapped the tool's end against his nipple as he whined from inside his throat and hardened his body, rendering himself immobile.

"Breathe," you ordered in a clipped tone. "Loosen your body and let go. You won't last me if you tense up and anticipate each strike, understand?"

Jungkook softened his muscles and nodded. "I'm sorry Mistress, I'll try harder."

“I know you will.”

You delivered another swat to his flesh, making him wince until he bared his teeth. Then you sent another. And another. And another. The sounds of the leather snaps maintained the cadence of your choosing as you timed them according to his panting breaths. He widened his legs to readjust his position, reclining to rest more comfortably against his heels as his body broke a light, clean sweat.

Once his nipples had deepened into a dark pink hue, you reached out your hand to touch his skin, greeting the warm, inflamed flesh with a tender touch. His pecs twitched as the tips of your fingers skidded gently over the surface.

"Does it hurt?" you cooed, your fingernail teasing his areola in a soft circle.

"Mhm," he affirmed as he pressed his lips together, his erection returning in full force and threatening to break through the opening of his boxers at any second.

Kneeling down in front of him, you swept your hand slowly down his lean, perspiring form. The smooth expanse of his chest began to lift with each labored breath as he felt your touch drift to his hardened length, pulling it out through the boxers' front opening in a swift motion. Your hand offered a firm squeeze as his hips bucked involuntarily against your warm palm.

"Mm, does it make you hard to be hit like my bitch?"

"God, yes…" he moaned in a low tone, his voice coated in pleasure.

 _Right where I want you_ , you grinned at his response.

"How badly do you want to come?"

His flesh twitched in your hand. "Really badly, Mistress."

"I bet you'd rut in my hand until you chafed yourself," you stated, pleased with the way he was starting to crumble.

Jungkook nodded robotically. "If you told me to, I would."

Your teeth trapped your tongue in a soft bite to keep you from giggling in celebration.  _He's wonderful, a natural submissive._ Jungkook never protested, nor questioned your words or level of control over him. He actively surrendered his choices when he spoke, deferring to your course of action every time.

Your hand left his body for just a moment as you walked toward your bag and retrieved a small bottle of lubricant. If you were being honest, the thought of making Jungkook chafe himself on purpose crossed your mind—but you didn't want to be that cruel in the first session when he had been obeying so well. You knew it would be more profitable and lucrative down the road to unwrap activities slowly, to offer him a little taste of the dessert table, but not let him leave with a stomach ache.

Jungkook shifted his head side to side as he listened to you open the bottle and squeeze a generous amount of lube in your palm. It was chilly to the touch, providing a cooler contrast to the heat of the room from your session thus far. Kneeling and reaching for his cock again, you felt his skin twitch and recoil a tad at the sensation. As your palm worked him over to spread the slick substance, he groaned and stiffened as if to show restraint.

"Mistress?" he asked in a shaky tone.

"Hm?" Your dulcet voice suggested you had no idea what he would ask for this time.

"May I please move m-my hips as you do that?"

"As I do what?" you probed with a knowing smile, teasing the words from his lips.

Jungkook panted, swallowing deeply. "As you touch my dick."

"Of course, baby," you answered. "How can I refuse when you asked so  _politely_?" You punctuated your question with a firm and resolute slide of your hand along his length, all the way down to the base. He whined and bit back the sound as quickly as possible, then pushed himself up on his knees so his hips could snap against your hand more freely.

His shackled wrists rattled as his body fell back into its natural rhythm, his pelvis rocking as your hand nurtured his member, increasing the warmth and hardness of it with each passing stroke.

Jungkook leaned forward and rested his forehead against your shoulder, taking in the softness of your skin as your arm worked to pump him past his breaking point. "Thank you, thank you," he chanted under his breath as his hips' cadence picked up speed.

You noted that he was sensitive to sensory deprivation, as the blindfold which took his vision increased his pleasure and made him more vocal than you had initially expected. His hot breath wafted over your chest as he approached his high, and you felt the bloom of power within your body. Jungkook planted soft, tender kisses against your collarbones, and the low throb you experienced in your core from the intimate consideration made you falter. You pecked your lips against his, wishing you could keep him for yourself. It was selfish, but you couldn't remember a client who had been so pliable this early in an arrangement. It was a struggle to keep from breaking your character, but the magic of your role relied upon you maintaining your restraint. You could feel and feed off the pleasure from him, but you couldn't let yourself fully act on it just yet—not when the pacing of his hips let you know he was close to cresting his peak.

Abruptly removing your hand and pushing against his abdomen, you coaxed Jungkook to sit back on his heels again. He pressed his lips together in expectation of you finishing him off, but when your thumb pressed to his frenulum and you squeezed the tip of his cock, he winced as he discovered your true intent.

From his position, your client was unable to move his legs or hips to help him along. He had no access to his hands, his sight, and the result of that restriction paired with your harsh maneuver made his body shake as he gritted his teeth and his breathing became ragged.

"Oh, are you upset, baby?" you cooed, recognizing that lip pout from years of experience. His orgasm slipped away as he became a little less hard. He took a deep breath as his skull drooped into a sulk.

"Ermh...." He bit his lip as he contemplated the best answer to give you. "I didn't think you would edge me. Do people actually  _like_  this?"

"You've never edged before?" you asked, then considered that edging probably wasn't appealing to someone like Jungkook who was expected to be in charge in the bedroom.  _Why would he have gone out of his way to extend playtime if he was getting nothing out of it?_

"Didn't need to," he confirmed your suspicions.

"I see," you replied. "Well, you're not in charge of your orgasm tonight. I am. And I think you're going to have one and be done, correct?"

"I can't have multiples," he frowned.

 _That's because you don't edge yourself_ , you thought. "Do you want to learn how?"

Jungkook groaned, "I feel like I don't have the energy to make it. I'm—," he let out a sigh, "I really want to come."

His voice was laced with impatience. It was endearing to you, as earlier in the evening he had pushed himself beyond his limits, and now he was able to see his shortcomings quite clearly. You needed to reward him soon, not only to take advantage of his overstimulated body, but also because you own body ached for relief from watching him fall to pieces in the process.

You pulled off his blindfold and were greeted with the deep pools of his dark eyes staring back at you.

"Welcome back, baby," you greeted warmly. "I'm going to unbind your hands and I want you to stand and stretch a bit, however much you need to because I've put you through quite a bit. Then I want you to sit on the couch."

"Okay," he answered, hearing the clink of his bindings coming loose. As he stood, he whistled from the feeling of soreness and his hands motioned to knead his thigh muscles to loosen them up. "Wow, you're better than the gym."

"I know," you chuckled, placing the cuffs back in your bag. "You may want to take your boxers off. It's not required, but they’ll get stained if you keep them on."

"I'd like to keep them on, then," he quipped with a cheeky grin.

"You like staining clothes, hm?"

"I like beautiful women staining my clothes." He blushed slightly as he seated himself on the couch.

You laughed at his honesty. "Fair enough. I'll keep that in mind."

Jungkook's gaze followed you as you approached and stood in front of the couch, hand on your hip. You examined his lean body as it reclined against the cushions, the sheen of sweat still visible across his face and chest. His cock rested against his stomach as if it were waiting for the next set of instructions, however there were no further instructions to follow. It was time for your submissive to be rewarded, but you had to be cautious. You couldn’t surrender complete control and give over absolutely everything. It would take some time for him to earn your complete trust, but he was proving to have incredible potential, especially since you had freed his hands minutes ago and he had resisted touching himself.

"You know," you said, "you've surprised me. A weaker man would have grabbed his dick as soon as I took the cuffs off."

"I'm hopeful that if I resist now, I'll get rewarded later," he responded.

"Is delayed gratification something you're into?"

Jungkook laughed, "I didn't think I was, but now I'm not so sure."

"That's all right. That gives me some ideas to explore if you want to schedule another session with me."

You toed off your heels, then let your hands lift up the bottom of your lace dress, offering a generous view of your panties.

"You've done a wonderful job obeying your Mistress tonight," you began, licking your lips as you watched your client's eyes darken. "I think it's time you get rewarded, don't you think?"

"Please," he trailed off, moving his hands to rest on his bare thighs.

Your fingers pulled at your waistband teasingly. "There's just one little catch—a choice you have to make."

His brow creased in confusion. "Okay."

"Your eyes are very innocent, misleadingly so. Your hands are not. Tonight, you're going to have to choose one or the other."

"So, you're saying I'm going to be blindfolded or cuffed for this next part and I'm choosing?" he asked.

"This is the last part. Your body has served me well and I'm going to ride you until you come good and hard for me—and you can either watch me fuck you, or you can touch me."

Giving your instructions to the half-naked young man was difficult. After spending the evening watching him work and sweat and pant repeatedly, you realized that you had less control over the situation than you had planned. It was highly uncommon for you to be this attracted to a client sexually, at least this soon. Attraction was not a job requirement, but it was a perk that made certain aspects of your job easier. And it was alarming, feeling your body ache for someone with whom you were barely acquainted. You were concerned about losing your nerve and feared that if Jungkook could touch you like he had earlier when you were kissing and be able to disarm you with his gaze simultaneously, you may break character and lose what little control you had over him. It was essential that you maintain your place of power and you knew this was the best way to do it.

Jungkook’s eyebrow perked slightly, as he sensed a new negotiation move into the foreground. "If I pick touching, what can I touch exactly?"

Your face heated up as you fought to dismiss all the ways you wanted to be touched. "You may touch anything you can reach, but no insertion or penetration with your hands."

His eyes drifted to stare at your black panties. "Can I take those off and touch your pussy?"

A low ache between your legs swelled in intensity.  _Fuck, I have to move quickly_ , you thought as you struggled to stay focused.

"Yes, hands only."

"I'll take the blindfold then. I really want to touch you," he decided.

You picked the blindfold off the ground and placed it back over his eyes. "Once again, I'm surprised by your selection."

He laughed, "I like touching a lot."

"Then you may be blindfolded a lot in the future," you joked. "Go on, baby boy."

Jungkook smirked as he scooted forward on the couch, reaching to find your body and caressing the sides of your thighs gently. As he slid your panties down your legs, you felt a cool air against your labia and became embarrassingly aware of how wet you had become interacting with him. He licked his lips as his index finger traced between your folds and found the evidence of your arousal there.

"I wish I could taste you, Mistress," he confessed, voice strained and uneven.

 _So do I_ , you admitted to yourself, irritated at feeling your defenses weaken by such a common line.

"Maybe next time, I'll let you," you whispered, body twitching once Jungkook found your clit and began to rub circles against it. You closed your eyes and tried to forgive yourself for rocking gradually against his hand, trying to address the tension building within you. A part of your brain justified the action by arguing that you had to “get prepared” for sex and doing that would render lubricant unnecessary. The baser instinct, however, knew you were already ready to fuck but wanted to have a little fun first.  _Ugh, dammit, I can’t use him like this tonight._

"Lean back," you redirected, feeling a disappointing sense of loss when his hand departed.

Jungkook’s back pressed against the cushions as his lap opened like an invitation. His dick was hardening again, no doubt from finally getting to touch you as he wished. It was convenient having a client who was easy where this was concerned. After years of serving clients of all ages, you had grown to appreciate the ones who didn't need additional assistance getting ready to work.

You straddled his lap and felt his hands hungrily find purchase in the flesh of your thighs. Lowering the tone in your voice, you instructed, "You may only touch me as I specified. You are not to take over because you are not in charge. And no peeking, understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he affirmed. "May I kiss you again?"

"Of course, baby," you eased, brushing his chin with your fingertips. "You may do or say anything which will bring you more pleasure, as long as you remember your place and follow my rules."

"I'll do whatever you say," he whispered, softening his hold on you.

You leaned forward, pressing your hands to his chest, as you nuzzled your nose against the underside of his, signaling you were closing in. His kiss was soft and relaxed, the movement of his lips lacking nervousness. Draping your arms over his neck, you deepened the kiss as his hands rested against the curve of your bare ass. You could feel his warm length peeking through the hole in his boxers, and temptation began to plant little seeds of action in your mind, but you chose to wait. It was important to time everything appropriately to maximize his pleasure and ensure he remained an engaged customer.

Jungkook's tongue pressed against your lips a little too firmly for your liking. Carding your fingers through his hair, you yanked his head back and heard him hiss at the sharp feeling.

"Careful...," you teased in a sweet voice, rolling your hips tauntingly over his shaft, coating it with your arousal from his earlier handiwork.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, becoming noticeably more aroused as the words tumbled from his mouth.

"Mm....You don't  _feel_  sorry." Pulling on his hair again, you traced your tongue possessively along the side of his neck, from his shoulder to his ear, and whispered, "Come on, tell me the truth. You like a little pain sprinkled in with your pleasure? You want me to be a little rough with you, don't you?" Your hips rolled harshly against his to summon his response.

"God," he groaned, gripping your legs tighter. "Please, Mistress."

You lowered your hand to his dick and squeezed it greedily before lining it up between your folds and sinking down on him slowly, like honey dripping off a honeycomb. His hands pressed against your back as he hummed sweetly into the crook of your neck. The vibrations of it set your face aflame, and you were relieved Jungkook was blindfolded so he couldn't see how much he affected you in that moment. Licking your lips and exhaling a deep sigh, you grinded on him to ensure he was fully settled in, as deeply as possible.

You couldn't recall how long it had been since you had penetrative sex with a client, but the delicious stretch from his cock was welcomed like an old friend. It would be enjoyed, even though you knew deep down you had pulled Jungkook too close to the edge already. He would erupt much sooner than you would, especially without a condom, and that was to be expected and hoped for. You never let a client have the upper hand and pull an orgasm from you the first session; no, that was a privilege which had to be earned—and he hadn't yet. As much as you wanted to enjoy a virile client to the fullest, you had a job to do and would have to settle for deriving your satisfaction from his pleasure instead of your own.

You scratched your nails down his chest as you rolled your hips leisurely, taking your time and extracting all his signals and expressions with every sense you possessed. His body responded beautifully with each drag and draw of your heat, the tip of his cock diving in—only to be tugged tenderly again, like pulling taffy.

Jungkook hissed at your touch as his head rested back against the couch, his hands wandering over your waist. "I-I don't think I'll last raw like this," he stammered, anxious sentiment rising in his voice.

"Your job isn't to last," you replied, clenching your walls around him with the intent to break his resolve. "Your job is to give in and enjoy the reward you've earned."

"Thank you, Mistress," he whispered, licking the corners of his mouth and clenching his jaw.

"The pleasure is all mine, baby," you purred. "Now, are you going to be my good submissive and take your reward properly?"

Your nails raked unapologetically along his nipples, scratching the sensitive nubs, before trailing down his abdomen, leaving behind harsh lines of red, inflamed skin.

"Fuck...," he whimpered, his throat bobbing as a drop of sweat began to form along the underside of his chin.

You slithered your tongue deftly along the slope of his neck before collecting the droplet on the tip of your tongue, taking possession of it.

"Answer me."

Jungkook nodded frantically. "I-I'll be your good sub, Mistress."

"That's right," you affirmed sharply, before shifting your hips and drastically adjusting your pace, lifting and slamming your waist cruelly on him at a cadence he wasn't prepared for or expecting.

Your client hardened his grip on your body as panting breaths squeezed through his lungs in harsh bursts. His face looked distressed, like he was barreling toward an end he didn't want to occur. A low chuckle resounded within you. You were going to break him so easily this way, especially since he had been edged before and lacked the permission to control your actions. The sound of the slams from your body overpowered him, and he began to moan as if he was alone.

"Thank you..." The words slipped off his tongue, and you felt amused by it. It was clear he was thanking you specifically, but his strained appearance looked like he might also be thanking himself for saying yes and hiring you in the first place.

"You're thanking me?" you taunted with a wicked laugh, tracing your nails around his bare areola to tease him. "I'm gonna use you up for my enjoyment, and you don't even get to see it."

The corners of Jungkook's lips turned upwards as his hands lifted to softly massage your breasts. The movement caught you off guard, causing your core to clench around him. "I want to be used," he confessed, whining like a wounded animal on the edge of madness. "Please, use me."

 _Fuck_. A hard, knocking throb echoed in your heat as your stomach twisted over how good those words felt in that moment.

You pinched his nipples cruelly, making him yelp, and you cackled. "That's what I want to hear."

Jungkook trapped his lower lip between his teeth and mewled as he savored your fingers tormenting his sensitive buds like you were turning the dial up on his sweet suffering. His abs began to clench and you could feel his body begin to writhe. A single tear fell down his right cheek from under the blindfold. His jaw hung loose and he was visibly taxed in every way.  _He's so close_ , you mused, tightening your walls along his length and continuing to ride harshly _._ You tugged on his chest like reins as you undulated your hips, skillfully ushering him to the edge.

"Mm....Mistress I need to come," he pleaded, urgently relocating his palms to your bare ass. You felt his hands tremble as he struggled to keep from grabbing you so close to his end.

"Beg for it, then," you commanded coldly, twisting his nipples in the opposite direction.

"Please, please let me come....ah— _please_!" he begged, squirming under your expert touch.

Your fingers glided to rest against his hands as they clutched your round flesh. Squeezing them tenderly, your silently gave him permission to hold you with a firmer grip. You maintained your pace and leaned forward, tracing his clenching jawline with your fingertip.

"Let go, baby. Come for your Mistress," you uttered in a saccharine tone, laced with nurturing sentiment contrary to the way your body worked against him.

Jungkook's stomach tightened and his body went rigid. Your eyes took in his last moments on the edge, as his breath suspended for a fragment of time. The hardness of his flesh, from his stiff cock on the verge of breaking, to the sharp buds of his perspiring chest, contrasted against the soft features in his face. His jaw shook loose as his head fell back and his throat emitted a euphonious sound, a bridge between a whimper and a wail. His form trembled beneath your thighs, satiated by finding release at last, and you felt a prideful expression bloom across your face.

Your body ached at the call, slowing your rolling pace as you anchored to his shoulders to siphon every fleeting sound of pleasure from him. In those final moments as you beheld your client's release, you selfishly lamented so many choices: the choice to shield his eyes from yours, the choice to edge him, the choice of not joining him in what you now understood was partaking in a sweet nectar he rarely shared with anyone. Your throat dried as you hoped you would remember the sound of his body breaking and reaching full inhibition, the feeling of him tenderly holding you despite how cruel your hands had been to bring him to his pinnacle.

The final exhalation of rest released from his lungs, signaling to you to still your body. Pulling the blindfold from his eyes, you were met with two abyssal seas of darkness, washed over with fresh tears of fulfillment. And you had given him that; you had given him the space to have what he needed.

"Hi there," you chuckled, stroking his hair as you switched roles into that of a caretaker.

His eyes looked glazed over and he sought the appropriate words to respond. After a few moments of gazing over your body, still perched on his dick, he realized.

"Can I get you off too? I-Is that allowed?"

You mentally cursed your body's involuntary response to his words—a small clench of your heat around him. His raised eyebrow and smirk informed you that he had felt it, and was now experiencing that post-sex sense of overconfidence befitting his gender. You wanted to come, badly, and it was no secret to him. He was offering to reciprocate, which was so rare in your line of work that you felt tempted to say yes.

But you couldn't. As much as you wanted it to subdue your screaming urges, it would distort your role with a client who was new and still learning your rules. You couldn't let him have that power over you, not after grooming him to understand that you were calling the shots. It was also risky to trade orgasm for orgasm, as it could nurture an attachment which may become unhealthy. He wasn't your partner, but your client, and you couldn't let yourself forget that.  _Not again_.

"As much as I appreciate your offer, I'll have to decline it this time, baby."

Jungkook looked confused, as he rotated his thumbs gingerly along your waist. "May I ask why?"

You paused to formulate an answer that wouldn't spoil the post-coital relaxation of your client. It would be too risky to say you didn't want to encourage attachment or inflate his ego. "If I let you have everything you want on our first night, you may not schedule with me again."

He laughed and you heard the rasp in his throat. "Are you kidding?" He leaned forward and pressed small kisses along your collarbone. "I wish I could come again," he whispered against your skin.

"I could teach you..." you hummed softly as you leaned your head back and enjoyed his lips on your chest. "You're a fast learner. I bet you can come harder than this with training."

Jungkook groaned softly at your words, and you felt you had hooked him as he rested his face in your breasts and looped his arms around your waist. You ran your nails generously into his scalp, tugging his dark locks intermittently to relax him.

"Do you have any requests for our next session?" you inquired.

Your client lifted his head as his eyes searched yours. "Will you let me taste you next time?"

 _Persistent, this one_ , you thought with a grin.

"If that's what you really want—but it will be done my way," you reminded.

The corners of his mouth turned upward. "I only want it your way, Mistress."

"That's a good answer," you chuckled, planting a soft, closing kiss on his lips.

Lifting your hips from his lap and returning to your feet, you began to process the feelings left behind from your session, moving quickly to filter as many of the emotionally binding ones out as possible.  _You performed well, Cat. He's happy and at peace and if you just make it a little longer you can go home and come as much as you want._

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" you requested, hoping to reach one quickly before your client's seed began to trickle down your inner thigh.

"Sure, it's the first on the right," he directed, pointed toward the hallway.

* * *

 

As you expected, Jungkook's bathroom had all the modern amenities befitting a condo in this neighborhood. It was sleek and modern, lacking any unique flair and emanating its original prepackaged look. What surprised you, however, was the fresh lemon scent rising from the quartz countertop.  _He cleaned today, how sweet_ , you grinned to yourself as you lifted the toilet lid. Even if he just used a wet wipe, the thoughtfulness of the task only solidified your support of continuing to have him as your client.

The sensation of the obligatory post-sex pee was difficult to process. You wanted to come, badly, and a part of you hated yourself for saying no and wanted to banish your rules. In such moments, it was customary to remind yourself of the clients from your past who created the need for your rules in the first place. There was the young woman who pretended to sub—once—then never wanted to sub again and proceeded to strike you without consent. There was the ex-client who was so focused on giving and performance that he never enjoyed what he received. There was the recent divorcee who made you come and then, thinking it was destiny, wanted to marry you. And of course, there was the one you would never be over.

Each recollection hardened your resolve and forced you to accept the fact that you would only let go under certain conditions. "Never on a first session" was one of those conditions. It was necessary, even though your aching, swollen clit needed it.  _As soon as I get home_ , you promised yourself,  _I’ll take care of myself_.

* * *

 

You exited the bathroom to find your client sitting at his kitchen table, hovering his nose lovingly over a fresh cup of ramen noodles. His focus was fixed on the steam rising from the styrofoam cup, and he hummed cheerfully to himself as his nostrils took in the savory aroma.

"Well, this is an adorable sight," you commented. "You look like a sweet puppy who found his bone."

He laughed as he stood from his seat. "You caught me. I am still eating these after college."

"It smells nice," you added.

"Would you like some?" Jungkook offered. "I have an embarrassing number of these in the cabinet."

You felt the small pang in your chest knowing you had to refuse again. "That’s thoughtful, but I'm afraid I have to run along."

Jungkook nodded in understanding. "Maybe next time, then."

"We can have dinner together in future sessions, if you'd like. Other clients have asked for this and I've always said yes."

"Is it incorporated into the play?" he asked.

You grinned ear-to-ear. "It can be. Not required though."

"The hot broth will probably burn," he quipped, then rubbed the back of his neck, beginning to appear nervous.

"You're allowed to expand the length of your session if you just want company, Jungkook," you clarified. "We don't have to be actively playing the entire session. You're paying for my time, essentially, but you can make requests for how that time is allocated. Just send me a text."

"Thanks for clarifying that," he remarked, then motioned his chin toward the living room. "You need help getting dressed?"

"I just need to find my panties. I don't want to catch a cold," you joked, spotting the crumpled lace on the floor. As you hooked the bands around your ankles and slid the lace up your legs, you stared hungrily at your client, who had attempted to start eating but was beyond distracted by the salacious display.

"Wish I had paid for more time with you...," he murmured, his dark orbs cast longingly between your legs as you shimmied the edge of your lace dress back over your thighs.

You walked toward your coat and pulled it off the floor, giving it a quick shake to flatten the fabric. "I'd be happy to give you more time. Just give me a call or text if you want to play with me again."

Jungkook moved to help you into your coat. As your arms dipped into the coat's long sleeves, you muttered a thank you to your client and tried to avoid raking your eyes over his bare chest again when he returned in front of you.

"Thank you," he said in closing. "I appreciated this a lot."

You smirked. "I know you did. I enjoyed myself as well. We'll have a lot of fun in the future, I think."

"I'll definitely message again soon."

"I'll be looking for it," you assured him with a kind look, offering your hand to him. "Enjoy your late dinner, Ramen."

"Oh, I will." He reciprocated your smile as his hand moved to the small of your back and he helped usher you toward the front door. He bowed his head to plant a kiss on your hand, as he remembered from your instructions outside the noodle shop.

"Travel safely, Mistress," he murmured, letting you feel the heat from his breath on your knuckles. You allowed yourself to enjoy a last look into his doe-like eyes, then turned to take your leave.

* * *

 

A deep exhale brushed across your lips as you sat in your car, running the engine to let it warm up. The need for sleep was beginning to settle over you, and you imagined the exhaustion from the session was partly to blame for that. Thankfully, your open schedule in the morning would allow you to sleep in.

You opened your phone to find a new notification—a generous tip from your young client. It was validating, in that tipping on top of an already pricey experience confirmed the signs you had been gleaning all evening; your newest customer was a satisfied one and would likely schedule again.

Opening a new voice note, you began to dictate:

"Had first session with Ramen. Modified persona to adopt temptress qualities because he’s inexperienced and was nervous at times. Client responds well to interactions that mimic romantic relationships. Remains eager to please, but struggles with recognizing limitations. Sensitive to sensory play but can withstand a great deal. Loves pain like a seasoned player. Strongly interested in giving oral sex in future sessions. Vocal about pleasure. Uncharacteristically polite. Offered to reciprocate. Shows immense promise and is likely to request extended time."


End file.
